Cold Moon, Bright Star
by ElvenDestiny
Summary: Enemies, allies, or lovers? The only thing that is certain is that their relationship defies all expectations. Late at night, Xing'er prepares to serve tea but sees far more than what she expected. Canon compliant, a series of one shots that explore all those missing moments that you know totally happened :)
1. Cold Moon, Bright Star

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez aka ElvenDestiny

August 12, 2017

 **A/N:** I'm actually kind of embarrassed to be writing Princess Agents / Chu Qiao Zhuan fanfiction but who am I to deny what very randomly inspires me? Anyway, here is even more UST between our poor, suffering hero and our darling heroine, with more of an exploration into what each are thinking. I almost wrote something more NC-17 rated, but their romance just wouldn't the same if it had been like that. Just one more thing, the language and style here may come off slightly stilted, I think because in my head I'm trying to imagine it as a scene in the drama, which uses archaic Chinese, but I'm writing it in English.

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* O * O * O *

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The fragrance of the steaming hot tea soothed her own nerves as Xing'er prepared it, every step as meticulously done as always even though it was in the middle of the night. No one else but Yuwen Yue would be diligent enough in his work to stay up so late, so by necessity, she had also become used to the night hours.

The courtyard was usually silent at this time of the night, a stark difference from the busy hustle of the day. The heavy darkness, only slightly warmed by candle and moonlight, lent an aura of intimacy that made her feel uneasy, no matter how familiar their routine had become. She doubted that she would ever not feel this way when she was alone with him in his private rooms.

Perhaps because she knew they played at this game, neither one conforming to their roles. She was supposed to be obedient and charming; she was the slave chosen by him for his personal use and amusement. He was supposed to be her master, treating her as nothing more than a disposable maid and bedmate, so far above her in status that she was beneath his notice unless he wanted something.

But instead she felt as though when she was in his presence, his entire attention was on her, always seeking to know, to understand, to read her mind. She kept her expression as neutral as she could although in turn, she struggled to guess at what he was thinking. He presented such an impassive face to her, but she seemed to get under his skin as no one else did. Of course, that was because she was neither obedient nor respectful, and least of all his plaything. Yet he was the one who had made her into more, who had recognized her sharp aptitude and encouraged her, a lowly slave maid, to hone herself into a weapon.

Perhaps a weapon that would one day kill him.

She knew both of them thought of that often. She could never forget the memory of seeing him ruthlessly run his sword through her brother in front of her. But though opportunities had come and gone, she had hesitated every time to avenge her brother. She knew Yuwen Yue watched her carefully but if she did not know her own heart, how could he know hers?

The room was dark when she opened the screen door, careful to do it so quietly that no normal person would have noticed. Of course, Yuwen Yue was no ordinary person, his senses sharpened by a lifetime of surviving attempted assassinations, and she had been chastised before for being too loud. How had he put it? Her entry was "uncouth" and unbecoming of a personal maid. Xing'er had gritted her teeth, given him her best submissive bow, and accepted the criticism. He had seemed a little disappointed at her mild response. Of course, it had made her only more determined to catch him unaware one night, if only for her petty satisfaction.

The only illumination in the room came from the moonlight and she paused at the entrance after the door silently closed behind her, both hands cradling the cup of tea. Was it possible that he had retired for the night after all? From where she was, she could see his desk was unoccupied, the candles blown out. A prettily decorated folding screen and a gauzy beaded curtain blocked her view of the rest of the room from where she stood.

The tea was about to burn her fingers so she set it down on a lacquered wooden table. He had not yet dismissed her for the night, but perhaps he had forgotten to do so. Still, should she go look to see if he was already sleeping and risk disturbing him? What if he thought he had already dismissed her and then mistook her presence in his room for some kind of…desire for attention?

That was the last thing she needed. Xing'er took a slow breath, thinking that it was better to risk punishment tomorrow morning for never bringing the tea than to end up in that situation. She already did not know exactly where she stood with him. She could play the dumb maid all she wanted, but they both knew better than to believe her act. Nor could she risk letting down her guard around him.

She was about to pick up the tea again to leave when she heard a soft sound. She stopped, tense, unsure if it was a sound of pain.

Worried that something was wrong and he was injured, but not wanting to give away her position immediately to the attackers, Xing'er cautiously peered around the folding screen. She barely stifled a gasp at the sight in front of her, half veiled by the curtain.

She had never seen the Master so disheveled before, raising all her alarms. He was lying facedown in bed, his head turned to the side so that she could see that his eyes were closed and his hair spread in messy strands across his shoulder and back. Even with his eyes closed, his features were a mask of concentration. He was wearing only a thin white robe, the bedcovers lying crumpled beneath him and to one side. One hand was gripping a fistful of the sheet beneath him.

She heard another soft moan, little more than a gasp. "Xing'er…"

She froze in place. Had he been poisoned, or was this just another one of his tests for her? He did not appear injured and surely he would have called for help if he had been attacked. But from the looks of it, he was vulnerable, perhaps fevered—she should be thinking of how to use this to her advantage, to achieve her revenge. Could it be a relapse of his illness? But the way he had said her name, as if he were dreaming…

Her thoughts came in a confused flood. Seeing him in such an undressed state made her flush, her cheeks warming even more as she realized he might not be ill at all. She drew back, her heart hammering suddenly as another explanation occurred to her.

He was a man, after all. Yuwen Yue had fooled all the servants and gossips into thinking he had taken her for his personal pleasure that first night—it wasn't until later that she realized what they must all have assumed from seeing the blood on his bedsheets—but in reality, he had not touched her. Well, except for the show he had put on for Jin Zhu, and those necessary moments when he was teaching her kung fu. She flushed harder, as she suddenly remembered his hands on her waist and thigh, effortlessly taking on her weight and spinning her around as if she were floating.

He probably had his own reasons for letting the entire household think she was his concubine. Xing'Er had overheard the older servants gossiping and knew that Yuwen Yue openly taking on a bedchamber maid was unprecedented, whatever other experiences he had with women. The rumors ranged from painting him as a virgin pining for the Wei princess to having him as the father of an illegitimate daughter. She had no doubt the truth was closer to the former than the latter, if only because she couldn't imagine someone so reserved to have carried on a casual dalliance with a woman, no matter how much the other maids giggled about his supposed virility.

He _had_ implied that he would bed her. But he had not. He was honorable in his own way and she was too relieved to question it. The training he had put her through was brutal, but after that first night, he seemed to have set aside whatever possibility of calling her to his bed that there might have been. To the rest of the world, she was a favored maidservant because he had claimed her and was enjoying her. Only the two of them knew otherwise.

The truth was, he kept his distance from her, and over time she had attributed it to a lack of interest rather than out of some respect for her wishes. After all, he had implied before that if she won the contest to become his bedchamber maid, he would demand everything of her that the position suggested. She had even been mentally preparing for it that first night, and had almost taken off her clothing when he called her to bed. He could do whatever he wanted with her and he did. Just not in that way.

Little did the others know that her bruises were not because he was rough in bed, but from the perfection he relentlessly required of her in martial arts. She was not learning to please him as everyone thought, but rather, she was learning new ways to defend herself—even new ways to kill him.

He remained, as always, cold in demeanor. The sole times his expression ever varied seemed to be when she had irked him. Even then, it was at best a mild irritation. She suspected it could even be amusing to him to hold onto her when Prince Yan Xun and others had expressed an interest. It wasn't every day that the highborn fought over a mere slave.

But this… This… No, it couldn't be. She was half convinced that she was just hallucinating from exhaustion. The stress of protecting her sisters from that hateful Jin Zhu's daily torments was getting to her and she was imagining things.

Xing'er peered around the screen again and watched as his hips shifted hard against the bed, his lips still softly murmuring her name. She abruptly lost her breath. His movements were gentle, yet possessive. She could almost see the muscles of his back and broad shoulders through the fine white threads of his robe. She had felt his strength before, had seen his agility and grace on display when he was protecting her. She knew he had the body of a skilled warrior, not a soft, pampered noble heir. She could not seem to tear her eyes away from his form, the curtain and the distance between them doing little to lessen the effect of seeing him like this.

When thinking of sexual relations, she had only ever felt disgust and horror, her instinctive first thought always of leering old men and terrified, unwilling slave girls. But this—this could not be more different. And yet fear swept through her anyway, that she could lose control of her body in such a way…but not by force, _willingly_. She had never really desired anybody before, but now she felt on fire and she could not pretend it was entirely from embarrassment. How could one lose oneself like this? After all, even Yuwen Yue, master of discipline and self-control, the lord that others joked was as cold as ice, had to surrender to his passion.

His passion for _her_. He was calling out for her.

She swallowed hard, feeling hot all over, her pounding heart sounding so loud in her own ears that she expect him to open his eyes any moment and identify her as an intruder. It was unbearable, watching the mysterious, maddening Yuwen Yue in his most private moment. Was he dreaming of her? Or worse, was he awake and thinking of her?

Xing'er felt faint. She drew back behind the folding screen and reached out to steady herself on the stand, her hand brushing the forgotten cup of tea. Her fingertips dipped down into the hot liquid and she gasped as they burned with pain.

The sound had hardly escaped her lips when she realized her mistake and panic overwhelmed her. She picked up the cup of tea and the saucer with both hands, her whole body going cold and then hot with anticipated doom, and fled silently outside.

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* O * O * O *

* * *

The slightest disturbance, a soft gasp, woke him from his half sleep, his senses instantly on alert. His mind was still muddled with thoughts of Xing'er, her soft, smooth skin, her star-bright eyes looking at in him that impossible mixture of defiance and docility. Every time she looked at him like that, it drove him absolutely crazy. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, or claim her in a kiss, or punish her for ever giving that look to another man… He didn't even know anymore. His body, too, was still ready for her, responding to urges he normally kept under the tightest control.

A quick scan showed that there was no one in the room. He looked critically at the tables, furniture, doors, and the numerous precious items that filled his room. No, nothing was out of place in his lavish surroundings. Or was that panel of the screen at an angle just slightly greater than before? In his current frustrated state, he couldn't tell. All he could assess was that there was no real immediate threat to his life. And Xing'er, was she safe? Where was she?

Yuwen Yue had already risen from bed, reaching for his sword, before realizing that he probably had dismissed her for the night at some point. No one was still awake at this hour. Of course she wasn't present; she was sleeping with her sisters. Safely in her own room. Safely away from him.

He cursed his own foolishness, his inability to resist temptation. From the moment he chose her from the competition—no, even before that—he knew she would be nothing but trouble. Yet he had still given her silver bells to wear, had personally placed them in her hair, making a big show of it. Sometimes he thought he was slowly being driven mad. By all rights, he could take her as he wished, as everyone thought he was already doing. He could even formalize it and make her his concubine. But that wasn't what he wanted.

It was stupid to keep Xing'er so close. He didn't need Grandfather to tell him that. Stupid for so many reasons, not in the least that although he couldn't shake his innate trust of her, she had every reason and motivation to one day betray him. Stupid because it made him irritable knowing the maids thought he was abusing her, when she fainted every night from exhaustion, covered in bruises. He was even irritated that nearly everyone in the Green Mountain Court knew, or thought they knew, how poorly he was treating her, and she had no one willing to risk his wrath to challenge him over it. No one to protect her from himself.

After all, what significance was the suffering of one slave girl?

He had even thought about setting her free. It would be an easy thing for him to do, to order emancipation papers for her and her sisters. She would owe him forever. It would mean more than merely saving her life. He snorted. _Merely_ saving her life—this was the nonsense she had driven him to, with her ingratitude and reckless disregard for her own safety. Setting her free and letting her go would solve all problems: it would spare her from being used in Grandfather's schemes, bring domestic peace back to his court, make the question of her loyalty to him immaterial, and most of all, end this dangerous, foolish distraction. It was the easiest move to make.

It was also one he couldn't bring himself to make. He knew it was selfish, but he rationalized it. Xing'er had great potential. She could be useful. And so what if it was selfish to keep her? Had he ever asked or wanted anything for himself? He had spent his whole life thus far fulfilling his duty to his family. He had exceeded almost all expectations.

Yuwen Yue had been so lost in his thoughts that he had been ignoring what his other senses were telling him. This was even after just recently chastising Xing'er for relying too much on her sight. While the serene moonlight revealed nothing out of place, his bedchamber held the aroma of tea along with the lingering remnants of her scent mixed with his, as was expected. She spent almost as much time in these rooms as he did. But here, around this corner by the elaborate folding screen, the air smelled faintly of her scent over the overpowering one of tea. She had recently been here, but when?

He ran his fingers across the shiny, lacquered surface of the wooden stand. It was warmer in one spot where she had set the teacup down. She had come to offer him tea, probably expecting him to be staying up late again reading his bamboo scrolls. Little did she know that more and more often, he had found himself watching her instead of concentrating on his own tasks. Even this nightly tea ritual was little more than an excuse to see her once more, without the distractions of other guards and servants.

Yuwen Yue closed his eyes briefly and let loose a breath. She had left. But what had she heard or seen?

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 **FIN**

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 **A/N** : So, I'm not sure if I'll write other one shots (to fit throughout the show or to elaborate the ending, maybe) or come back to follow up on this, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and definitely let me know if you want more!


	2. Lessons of the Heart

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez aka ElvenDestiNy

August 26, 2017

(A very long) Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! So as I mentioned in my profile here, I sort of have a plan now about PA fanfiction. _Cold Moon, Bright Star_ is going to continue as a series of one shots that will fill out the story from the drama and develop their relationship more. In other words, it's not really a chaptered story, but instead a series of short stories where I'm following roughly the same timeline as the drama. I guess you can think of these as semi-independent "missing scenes," which I realize doesn't sound _that_ exciting, but I wanted to see how I feel about writing for PA (and of course how you guys feel about my writing) before committing to a long story. But if all goes well, I'll write an actual story that starts from the end of the drama, so basically like a second season.

 **Also important** , the last "chapter" took place around the time of uncut episodes 14-16. This one is set around episodes 17-18, just before Xing'er overhears Yuwen Zhuo talking about how Yuwen Yue is just using her as a sacrificial spy. I don't want to spend that much time rehashing things already happened in the drama, so I might refer to events but I'll try not to just rewrite the scenes, otherwise that would be boring for everyone. You might also notice that I use Xing'er but will eventually switch to Chu Qiao. After Ep. 17 she already knows her name, but since Yuwen Yue doesn't know yet, I'll use Xing'er to keep things consistent, at least for now.

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 **Lessons of the Heart**

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The first time Yan Xun visited him just to try to convince him to sell Xing'er, Yuwen Yue had been more amused than irritated. His little maid was like a field mouse attracting the attention of all the hungry raptors. Later on, when Yan Xun brought the topic up again, Yuwen Yue had played along and pretended to actually consider it. After all, did the prince really want a little wildcat? He told him that Xing'er was a magnet for danger (true), not obedient enough (also true), and more trouble than she was worth (definitely true). Yan Xun had just grinned and replied that it all just added to her charm.

Given that, Yuwen Yue should have seen it coming. His reckless friend had helped Prince Yuan Song take Xing'er away from the manor—and straight into danger. He still fumed over that one. He had shot one of his precious ice arrows to help Xing'er fend off her mysterious attackers, but that was not what had bothered him. It had unsettled him to realize that he cared so much.

He found the whole situation much less amusing now that Yan Xun seemed to have no intention of hiding his obvious interest in Xing'er, whether to her or to everyone else. Didn't Yan Xun realize that showing such extraordinary interest in a maid was only going to bring trouble to her? Even the biggest, most unobservant idiot in the emperor's court knew that Chun'er had her heart set on Yan Xun, her childhood crush only getting worse as they all grew up—and what the princess wanted, she always got. She had never become malicious as one might expect of someone growing up in the hotbed of petty palace rivalries, but there was no denying that she was spoiled and capricious. That was part of the reason why, despite having known her since childhood, Yuwen Yue found her rather insufferable. He really did not know how Yan Xun even put up with her antics to the extent that he did.

Now, with Yan Xun before him _again_ , Yuwen Yue's patience was near its end. While the prince was one of the few people he considered a friend, the Yuwen family's secrets would always keep them in two different spheres. Yuwen Yue couldn't afford to be like the other young nobles of the Emperor's court, not with the enormous responsibility of the Eyes of God on him. Xing'er, for better or for worse, was part of that secret now that she was one of his spies.

"When are you going to give up and just give her to me?" Yan Xun hovered besides Yuwen Yue even as the latter studiously ignored him in favor of the mountains of documents on his desk he still had to go through. Now more than ever, it was crucial for him to sort rumor from truth, regarding the intentions and activities of both the Emperor and the Duke of Yanbei.

Undeterred by his friend's silence, Yan Xun continued. "Really now, you have dozens of maids. What's one more to you? You won't even notice she's gone."

Both of them knew that it was a massive understatement. Yuwen Yue narrowed his eyes. "I already said no. It isn't going to happen." He stopped himself before he added more, unnecessary words like _she's mine_ hovering on his tongue.

Yan Xun seemed a little surprised at the bite to his tone, but he settled himself into the chair facing Yuwen Yue, making it clear that he wasn't done with the subject. "You know that you should set her free. She's too good to spend the rest of her life as a slave."

"You'd rather she spend the rest of her life as your concubine in Yanbei?" Yuwen Yue shot back, the memory of seeing Xing'er talking to Yan Xun about that very possibility still fresh in his mind. Immediately he regretted his impulsive words.

"If it makes her happy, then why not?" came the almost equally heated reply. "I told you before, she's like me. She's like an eagle of the mountain steppes, not a pretty decorative bird meant to be kept in a gilded cage."

To Yan Xun, the hostage prince of Yan Bei, all of Chang'an was his gilded cage. Even though Yuwen Yue felt a pang of sympathy, hearing Yan Xun argue for Xing'er and imply that she would willingly be his mistress just irritated him too much. Of course he thought she was worth more than a slave, he had chosen to make her into a valuable spy—not than Yan Xun knew that.

"This is where she belongs," Yuwen Yue said at last, choosing to keep it simple. "She has no intention of leaving, nor would I let her."

"Really? That wasn't what she told me." Seeing the slight change in his friend's expression—which spoke volumes—Yan Xun changed tact. "Think about it, if you were a slave, wouldn't you spend every breath thinking about freedom?"

"We are all born under the hand of fate," was the cool reply. "We all have our place in life. The strong do what they want and the weak will suffer as they must. What matters in the end is survival and safety, and I will ensure both for her."

Yan Xun shook his head. "Such a bleak outlook on life, as always. Maybe instead of calling you the ice cube, Chun'er should call you the grand pessimist."

As a matter of fact, Yuwen Yue did have much more serious things on his mind these days, as should Yan Xun. "Instead of spending so much time worrying about where Xing'er is, maybe you should return to Yan Bei yourself," he said shortly. "These are unsettled times and a little thing could set off a chain reaction that might end in disaster."

His advice was borderline treason; he was telling the Emperor's hostage to leave. Indeed, Yan Xun's actions themselves could become the catalyst for war. But from all reports and from his own audiences before the Emperor, Yuwen Yue felt certain that war was imminent anyway. Through his spies, he knew that the woman from Yanbei, Zhong Yu, would have told Yan Xun much the same.

Yan Xun stared across the desk at him. "What do you know?"

Yuwen Yue only repeated what he had told Yan Xun before. "Unless you want to take Chun'er as your wife and remain in Chang'an forever, you should go visit your family. Return to Yanbei, Yan Xun. That is where _you_ truly belong."

Years later, he would still remember the exact details of this conversation and wonder if he should have said more. If he had truly not done enough to save his friend. If all of what came after, in the hindsight of perfect clarity, had really started here, in this very moment. If he had been more direct, would it have changed anything? If Yan Xun had returned to Yan Bei, he almost certainly would have died with his family, rather than becoming their last hope of vengeance. Would that have been better or worse for all the people caught in the middle of a senseless war? How might the fate of hundred thousands more lives have been changed?

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* O * O * O *

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Ever the pragmatist, Yuwen Yue went to personally oversee his newest spy's training. With his conversation with Yan Xun fresh on his mind, he could not help but think that the coming years were uncertain and Xing'er was…unprepared. He told himself to leave it at that.

Even with her prodigious progress in martial arts, she was not ready for more. Her mistake in getting trapped underground had proven it. He stubbornly ignored the fact that he had been the one who had been sickened and weakened by their time underground—after all, he had only been trapped there because he had been saving _her_.

It was cold in the practice courtyard, empty except for Xing'er. The seasons were changing from fall to winter and the leaves on the tree were in turn becoming russet and gold, rustling faintly in the wind. Soon, the water would be glazed with a thin layer of frost. It should be a time for warm hearths and fires, not a time for war.

She was so focused on her training, she hadn't noticed him observing her yet. Her form was good, with a natural grace to it. She moved like someone who had trained for martial arts from a young age. Although he didn't know her real identity, as soon as he found out—and others did as well—he reasoned that she would be in even more danger. The best time for her enemies to take her out would be while she still couldn't remember her past and therefore couldn't recognize her enemies or defend herself against them.

That was why, Yuwen Yue told himself, he had given her the legendary Can Hong sword. Not because, as the annoying merchant Zuo had wildly assumed, it was the counterpart to his own. He brushed aside his misgivings that Grandfather, already suspicious of his highly unusual maid, would hear of it and take it as another sign that his grandson had become emotionally attached. After all, he had reasoned, it suited Xing'er well and it was a waste of potential to keep it in storage. He tried not to remember her expression when he had presented it to her, that look of surprise turning into a warm appreciation.

Without warning, he suddenly attacked her, wanting to take her off guard. To his own surprise, she swiftly dodged his attack—apparently she _had_ known he had been there and watching her the entire time. The wind blew back the stray strands of hair away from her face and he realized she had probably identified him by scent as soon as he had arrived.

"Did the show please you, Young Master?" she asked impudently, confirming his suspicions.

 _Maybe too much_ , he thought as he engaged her in the fight, always two or three steps ahead, anticipating her every move to maneuver her into position. Finally, he disarmed her with one quick move, leaving her off balance as he simultaneously used his weight and greater strength to leverage her into an unintended flip. She slammed onto the ground, flat on her back, as he casually leaned over her with the edge of his sword just close enough to her throat to emphasize his point.

"You were too easily distracted." Even though she had trained diligently and had really shown no such inclination, he couldn't resist needling her. "Are you trying to show off for me?"

She looked up at him wide-eyed. Then she lowered her gaze in that infuriatingly fake submission that made him want to reach out to tilt her chin up again. "That only worked because the Young Master is much bigger and heavier than me. I am just a maid," she answered sweetly.

Meanwhile she ignored his hand and got up by herself, dusting off her skirts and retrieving Can Hong.

"You will always be fighting against enemies who are bigger, stronger, and heavier than you," he told her. "You need to get used to it."

She nodded once, listening to him carefully as she always did, even when he could tell she was secretly hating him for putting her through so much pain. "And don't use that line about 'just being a maid' on me anymore, you're my spy now," he added as an afterthought.

They sparred four more times, with similar end results. After the third time—she still refused to let him help her up—she got up and then sat back down, wincing as if her ankle bothered her. He could tell it was only a delaying tactic as she got her breath back; it irked him to realize that she was playing on his sympathy and that, despite knowing it was a ruse, he still gave her the extra few minutes.

No real attacker would do that, he reminded himself. He couldn't be soft on her. He stood over her and looked down with a stern expression. "Are you worthy of the sword I gave you? If you are disarmed so easily, you might as well gift the weapon to your opponent."

She stared back at him, eyes practically glowing with defiance. A little wild hellcat, indeed. "I've figured out how to stop you from disarming me each time, but you keep changing to a new tactic. You're not giving me a chance to show you what I've learned."

"Of course," he answered. "That's the point of training. You can't ever rely on your opponent to hold back their hand, even if you usually consider them a friend."

Except she didn't consider him a friend in the first place, so he stumbled over his words. They were lord and servant, spymaster and spy, master and slave, but definitely not friends. "What I mean is, even when you have the skills to fight or kill someone, you must have the right mentality to do it. When you really need to fight someone in real life, don't think that they will see you as human. Your life means nothing to them. Look at how your older sister died."

He closed his mouth so fast his teeth almost clicked. What under heaven had possessed him to say that? It had been on his mind recently as he had considered what little he could do to curb the atrocious appetites of his uncle. He had only meant that he didn't want her to become an easy victim like her sister, like his own mother, but she looked as if he had slapped her.

She got to her feet, her gaze still trained on him with unwavering focus. Her voice came out perfectly calm and clear but he could hear the pain beneath her words. "You let those girls be sent to Ji Le Pavilion knowing that they will be raped and murdered by Yuwen Xi. You have the status and the strength to protect the weak, but you don't. Is that the mentality you are trying to teach me?"

He thought of and discarded many answers as she waited for his response, the silence dragging on, whatever was between them turning hard and cruel. Any explanation would only sound like an excuse for the loss she had suffered. "You overestimate my power," he said finally, leaving it at that.

"Do I?" she asked bitterly. "We stand here face to face but we live in two different worlds. My older sister died because she sacrificed herself for me. Perhaps those of you who use humans as pawns and slaves as prey in hunting games cannot even grasp the concept."

"Xing-er—" he did not know what he would have said, but it didn't matter.

"Why _are_ you training me like this?" she interrupted him. "You could have put Yue Qi in charge of my training instead of doing it yourself. You spent time showing me the technique for your special ice arrow, you taught me to read and write, you personally taught me more than half of my lessons."

Again, he couldn't quite answer her. Why _was_ he training her like this? Just to use her as a spy, as he had told Grandfather? Some small part of him stubbornly saw her as an equal, despite the vast gulf that existed between them in virtually every way, and wanted to nurture that potential. But more than that, he was undeniably drawn to her. Yes, there was physical attraction there; he had recently all too often woken up from dreams where she had become every part his bedchamber maid in reality. Yes, she was remarkably beautiful and intelligent, if undereducated; it was easy to see why she had captured the attention of highborn princes like Yan Xun or Yuan Song, even if it was just a fleeting interest on their parts.

But there were dozens of more beautiful and more intelligent ladies, dozens upon dozens of more suitable women. He could have his pick of them and yet there was only one who looked back at him like that, her spirit so bright and pure that he wanted to make sure nothing could tarnish it. Despite all she had suffered, much of it resulting from what he had done with his own hands, she still had such a sense of purpose—such an unwavering belief that she could fight against the world's injustice.

With that very same relentlessness, she now confronted him, the words pouring out in a rush. "Why bother giving private lessons to one worthless little maid, even if I've become your greenest, weakest spy? My life means nothing to you."

She waited for an answer, standing so close to him that he could see the glossiness of her eyes, the unshed tears. Were they from anger? Disappointment? It shouldn't matter what she thought of him, but he couldn't bring himself to let her walk away thinking what she had said was true. He swallowed hard, the need to comfort her shredding what little control he had left after her accusations.

"Your life should mean nothing to me," he replied in a low voice. "But it does. Xing'er, you are more than a slave to me. You are more than a maid, and more than a just spy to me…" He couldn't say more.

Unable to meet her expression or bear her silence any longer, he reached out and drew her to him, arms closing around her in an awkward, impulsive embrace. She was so soft and so small in his arms, despite her strength.

"Yuwen Yue…" she said, shocked enough at his actions to forget to address him properly. His name sounded muffled against his shoulder.

For a moment he thought she might push him away, her arms lifting between them, but instead he felt them come around his back. She gently rested her head against his chest, as if just briefly she could let go of the weariness and grief she carried around constantly. The silver bells that adorned her hair chimed gently and he wondered if she could hear his heart pounding beneath the press of her cheek. He felt, rather than heard her exhale slowly, and for the very first time since he had met her, she let her guard down as she became pliant in his arms.

Later, he would examine his own actions with disbelief. Much, much later, as months and then years passed, he would wonder sometimes if he had dreamed it all, that surreal moment in the practice courtyard with the cold wind whispering through the tree leaves. He would wonder if even then, she had been plotting to take her revenge on Yuwen Xi a few nights later and to flee for Yan Bei with Yan Xun. He would wonder if she had been somehow playing him skillfully all along, or if she merely thought they were both using each other, nothing genuine between them.

But in that moment, when she looked up at him with those eyes full of mysteries and feelings running too deep, he hadn't been himself. For the first time in his life he hadn't been Yuwen Yue, prodigal heir of the Eyes of God, spymaster and advisor to the Emperor, the only young lord in the empire trying to avert a fast coming war in the only ways he knew how. Nor had she been a slave girl with an unknown past, intent on revenge even at the probable cost of her own life. He had just been a young man, and she had just been a young woman.

So he drew back to look at her, drinking in her every expression and look as a man dying of thirst might. He committed to memory every breath and heartbeat between them, and then leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were warm, and sweet, and he kissed her more and deeply when her hesitant surprise melted into an eager, willing response.

Xing'er trembled in his arms, her hands clutching at the heavy fabric of his robe across his shoulders, and heat bloomed between them. She finally tore herself away with a soft gasp and Yuwen Yue let her go, feeling just as dazed and stunned as she appeared to be. He had never expected that she would reciprocate like this—but that was the problem, wasn't it? He hadn't been thinking at all. He had simply done what his heart had told him to do.

Their eyes met as she raised her fingertips to her mouth as if in disbelief at the lingering sensations from their kiss. He tried to clear his expression, certain that he looked as raw and out of control as he felt, but the calm, cool façade he usually presented to the world was beyond his abilities to summon.

She regained her composure before he did, drawing a sharp breath and stepping farther away from him, putting a normal amount of distance between them. The only sound in the courtyard, thankfully still deserted except for the two of them, was the rustling of the leaves in the breeze.

"This never happened," she whispered. She retreated even more, her hand on her sword now as if she wished she could draw it against him.

"Xing'er, wait…" He would have commanded her to stop and listen, but her expression made him fall silent. She looked at him with such a mixture of fear, anger, disgust and even loathing.

"This never happened," she stated again, as cold and clear as he should have been, daring him to dispute it. It was as effective as ice water. He acceded with a short nod and as soon as she began to walk away, he turned and left so he did not have to see her leave him.

Yuwen Yue did not know it then, but it would be the last time they trained together, the last private lesson he gave her. That night, she would prepare his bed and pour tea for him, both of them too aware of each other and trying too hard to be nothing more than master and slave.

A few nights later, she would complete her revenge by killing Yuwen Xi and pinning the blame on him. Things would never be the same again. He learned his lesson, too: that the heart deceives, the heart pretends, and yet above all else, the heart does not forget.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : So, the third short story will be posted in a week, hopefully. I just adore the XingYue song (The Stars and Moon) in the Princess Agents OST, so I listen to it as I write. (To be completely honest, the Three Worlds, Three Lives, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms OST is my favorite for music inspiration although I've never even watched the drama.) I'm really trying to write quickly but as I mentioned in my profile, I'm really busy right now. I do get notifications for comments but for whatever reason private messages don't always come through, so my apologies if I missed responding to someone.

Please continue to **read and review** , you don't need to have an account or be logged in to leave a comment below!


	3. To Catch A Falling Star

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

September 8, 2017

 **Author's Note** : This is set around uncut episodes 21-23, after Chu Qiao kills Yuwen Xi and before Yan Xun's scenes at the Jiuyou Pavilion. As I said before, I don't want to rewrite parts that are already in the drama, but I do want to provide more insight into the characters' motivations. (I was particularly annoyed that they had an extended, _multiple episode_ scene that was dragged out for so long, my sympathy for Yan Xun actually disappeared because of how overblown it got. Instead of being the tragic, emotional story arc it was supposed to be, it became almost ridiculous. The director could have spent that time on character development and on the aftermath, but instead chose to include a dozen redundant scenes instead.)

Anyway, since these are more like independent short stories than a chaptered story, I do try to provide context so it's clear where we are in the timeline. Some of these stories follow each other pretty closely, but later on I have some fairly big time jumps just like in the drama, although some of the "missing scenes" are meant fill in those gaps. Also, I will write more action later, it's just that the first 25 episodes of the drama had lots of action and a fast paced plot but not much insight, then the next 25 episodes dragged. Lots of pacing and plot issues and I can only do so much to fix it.

* * *

 **To Catch a Falling Star**

* * *

She didn't have a death wish, but she had never really expected to live.

Chu Qiao sat against the cold, damp stone wall of the stinking prison, staring into the darkness. Yan Xun was on the other side, finally resting now, but knowing that he was with her only made her feel worse. He should have been riding to Yanbei right now on the back of the swiftest horse, accompanied by his men. His position had been precarious enough, with the Emperor declaring his family to be in open rebellion. Yan Xun had been caught only because he had been trying to save her, and although he had tried to comfort her by telling her that his father would come rescue them, she saw it for the false hope that it was. She was sorry for herself but even more so for him—so very sorry, because she knew the best they could hope for was a quick execution.

She was exhausted and injured and yet the heaviness in her heart and her swirling thoughts kept her from sleep. She could do nothing but contemplate the chain of events that had turned them into prisoners. Ever since the night she had found out that Yuwen Zhuo was still alive and that he and his grandson meant for her to die as a sacrificial spy, one thing after another had happened as if she were caught in a dream. In killing Yuwen Xi by her own hand, she had avenged her sister and had saved countless others, so why did she still feel such a hollowness inside? She had never been one for tears, but she had cried bitterly after finding out the truth about Yuwen Yue.

Even now, she could not believe that she had trusted him so deeply, that she had ignored everything that should have warned her against him. She had seen him kill her own brother in front of her very eyes, and yet only a week ago, she had been content, even eager, to risk her own life as his spy for the Eyes of God. She regretted all the countless opportunities she had had to attack him.

Above all, she regretted that she had been so unforgivably naïve. She closed her eyes as she remembered again the hot press of his mouth against hers, the way his arms had circled possessively around her slender waist and pulled her close against him. Had she really been such a foolish and impressionable girl that a few scraps of respect and kindness had blinded her to so much?

Chu Qiao really didn't know what hurt more: finding out about his many betrayals, or the realization that she had been so complicit in them. Despite her immediate, panicked denial of their kiss during that training session in the courtyard that day, she had not been able to live up to her own promise to forget it. For the simple sake of his warm regard, she had been tempted to give up her plans to kill Yuwen Xi. She had fancied herself a small star to his brilliant moon.

And now look at where that trust had gotten her.

She could still hear the sound of his voice, soft and caressing, calling the name that he had given her. "Xing'er…" Then again, later, his panicked shout as she slashed at his hand and forced him to let her go, the sound of her name ringing in her ears as she plummeted toward the ground.

But she wasn't, she _wasn't_. "Xing'er" was a fiction between the two of them. She may not have been able to remember who she was, other than her name, but she never wanted to be that girl again. Xing'er was a fool who had almost fallen for Yuwen Yue. _Xing'er_ was the stupid girl who had let her brother's death go unavenged all while kissing his murderer.

If only she could forget his expression when she had screamed her denial of his name for her and flung those silver bells at his feet. If only she could forget how he had sounded when he had come looking for her later and had believed that his hired assassin had killed her...and how relieved he had looked even with her knife pressed against his throat.

Chu Qiao buried her face in her hands, trying to will away the threat of tears. She felt like she was falling into a black abyss of thoughts and memories. How could these moments still have such power to hurt her, even after what he had done?

The worst part was that she knew that in her heart of hearts, she had still held on to lingering doubts. She simply couldn't reconcile the things she had found out about him with the person that she had come to know, the man who had spent hours by her side teaching her, giving her the skills she needed so that her ability to act would match her fierce attitude and words. Anger filled her all over again, a bitterness that enveloped her heart. When she had implicated him in Yuwen Xi's murder, she had second guessed herself. Two times she had confronted Yuwen Yue and attempted to take his life as payment for his murder of her brother, and two times she had failed.

She could still feel the grooved hilt of the knife in her hand as she had held it to his throat. But when he had pressed forward, daring her to do it, she had lost her nerve and drawn back. The irony was that he had tried to teach her this very thing—he had told her that even if she had the opportunity to end someone's life, she had to have the right mentality to carry through with it. Even as angry and betrayed as she had been, she hadn't been able to kill him because of her doubts about his true intentions.

 _Things aren't always what they appear to be_ , he had once said to her. But if she still expected some kind of redemption for his deceit, his actions had made it crystal clear what kind of man he really was.

As soon as she had seen the ice arrow that had pierced Yan Xun's shoulder and brought him down so that they could be captured, Chu Qiao knew she could never forgive Yuwen Yue. But again a small part of her wondered if they would have been taken prisoner anyway; they had been outnumbered and surrounded almost immediately.

 _It is a weapon that can be used by anyone,_ his voice whispered silkily in her mind, as his hand guided hers, teaching her how to use the special crossbow.

No. Chu Qiao could never again trust him. He had proven that over and over. She was already going to pay for her mistake with her life. She had to focus all her energy on finding a way to help Yan Xun.

Whatever Yuwen Yue's real motives were, she was done guessing at them.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Yuwen Yue was not a man of idle motions, but he was driven to pace in his study as he waited for his agent to return. It was far too late in the night and he should have gotten a report hours ago. He had successfully prevented Yuwen Huai from taking Xing'er but there was no telling what else had happened inside the prison. He knew the type of men that were assigned to be jailers. They were uncouth degenerates, every single one of them, and while he was sure Xing'er could protect herself up to a point, he couldn't hold back his worry.

His chambers seemed too large, too empty despite the luxurious furnishings. Despite his best efforts, everything was playing out exact as he had most feared it would: the emperor going over the edge with paranoia, Xing'er unable to turn away from the bloody path of revenge, and Yan Xun stuck in Chang'an, likely destined for beheading along with the rest of his family. It was a disaster and it was all out of his control.

On top of it all, the emperor had decided to _reward_ him by appointing him a supervisor of the executions, alongside Yuwen Huai. Xing'er was right—in a way, she had done him a favor by killing Yuwen Xi. If only she had finished off his bastard cousin while she was at it. He knew, of course, that this was just another way for the emperor to test his loyalty.

Yuwen Yue still remembered his first time meeting Yan Xun. They had been so young, yet already saddled with so many expectations, despite their privileged backgrounds. He had always been too reserved and dignified for a child of his age, but he had also been an outcast, too. The Yuwen family's name had fallen into semi-disrepute and his mother's death under what most believed were dishonorable circumstances had ensured that he wouldn't be readily accepted by his peers. Yuwen Yue's response was to push himself to be the best at everything, to be impeccably so far above and ahead of the other noble scions that they had no choice but to accept the place he had carved out for himself.

Yan Xun had been dropped into the middle of all these childhood rivalries and power struggles, a foreign prince from a wild, rustic land. Most of the nobles in Chang'an thought Yanbei was an uncivilized land and it was widely thought that the Emperor of Wei had purposely given his best general and former comrade in arms the title of Duke in this distant northern province in order to limit his power. Perhaps it was also from jealousy, as the Lady Bai Sheng had chosen to marry Yan Shicheng.

Whatever the reasons back then, most had regarded the tribes in Yanbei as made of little more than heathens. Though the emperor had vowed to treat Yan Xun like his own son and the princess Chun'er had taken to her new playmate immediately, this favoritism only made the others more cruel. Yan Xun spoke funny—he didn't know the proper phrases to say and lacked the polished court manners that went with the birthright of the young nobles. This foreign princeling even looked funny, with his rows of braided hair and beads, and his clothing when he first arrived had all been in a foreign style.

Indeed, Yuwen Yue decided early on that he would not be a good ally, and therefore made no attempt to get to know the prince. The prince, however, had other ideas.

Grandfather had been summoned to an audience with the emperor, so Yue'er had been brought along to the imperial palace with the stern admonishment that he make some friends, particularly with those who would be the future rulers of the Wei state. After all, he had grown up knowing that he was to restore power to the Yuwen family or die trying.

As usual, Yue'er preferred to keep to himself rather than engage in the stupid competitions that were the norm in the palace. He had greeted Prince Yu—one of the few royal sons that he thought was all right—and then made his escape to the archery range. He had recently been reading in a text about a mechanical contraption that could be used to trigger a bow with ease, thus saving the archer's strength but not sacrificing accuracy. Such a device could have fascinating implications for warfare, but he was more interested in its potential for extending the range of the arrow much farther before. The challenge would be in designing a projectile that would have to be smaller than a standard arrow, but still have enough weight for an accurate trajectory…

"Why, who do we have here?"

Yue'er released his arrow and watched it strike the target in a satisfyingly perfect bullseye before turning to face his nemesis. He was unsurprised to find the sneering face of his Yuwen Huai, accompanied by two of the usual lordlings. The irony was that his cousin had even less status than him, but he spent all his days licking the boots of his friends, despite how they treated him like a lackey.

"Still practicing all day, Teacher's Pet?" This time it was Wei Shuyou, his younger brother like a pale shadow beside him. "Where are those books you haul around?"

"He only studies so much because he's an eunuch," Zhao Xifeng chimed in with his nasally whine. The brat was really one to speak; he was stick thin, sickly, and his ears stood out like jug handles.

Yue'er kept his expression blank even though he wanted to retort that at least they could come up with insults that were the slightest bit more original. This was practically a repeat of last month, down to the 'eunuch' bit. Still, he ignored them and turned his attention back to his archery. They would no doubt try to beat him up again, four against one, but another benefit of being the best of his generation was that they were no match for him. He had to be careful not to rough them up too much or they would tell on him, but they were so stupid, they tried the same thing every time even when it never worked.

"Don't you have any better insults than that?" a different voice spoke up from across the room, echoing his thoughts. "You're one to speak of eunuchs, Zhao Xifeng. Didn't that girl you like run away from you crying just yesterday?"

Yue'er lowered his bow and arrow in surprise and turned to see Zhao Xifeng turn an angry shade of dark red. Across from him stood a tall and lean boy with his feet spread apart in a loose, easy stance. His telltale braids and high cheekbones gave him away; this must be the new prince.

"Shut up," Zhao Xifeng hissed. "At least mygrandfather didn't devote himself to a maidservant and _my_ mother wasn't a slut."

Yue'er clenched his hand into a fist but didn't rise to the provocation. He didn't fear themwhatsoever or even any reprimands for fighting that the adults might dole out, but Grandfather would be far harsher in his punishments. He could hear it already: _how dare you commit actions that could bring dishonor to the Yuwen name!_ Never mind that the dishonor was already there.

The foreign prince threw him a quizzical look for his restraint but then turned back to the trio. He said nothing but purposely gave them a dazzling smile of condescension. Even Yuwen Yue had to be impressed by this other boy's aura of confidence.

Yuwen Huai, eager to get in his shots while he had his buddies to back him up, smirked at them both. "Everyone knows who _your_ mother is, Yan Xun. Yourfather just got the Emperor's leftovers."

"My honored mother turned down the Emperor of Wei himself for love," Yan Xun answered carelessly. "No doubt it is something you can't comprehend."

Yanbei heathens from the steppes or not, he did outrank them all. Before more minor insults could be exchanged, however, Yuwen Huai decided to take things into his own hands and attacked. Underhanded as usual, he had circled around and tried to attack Yue'er from behind.

To all their surprise, Yan Xun joined in the fray immediately, making it four against two instead of four against one—not that Yue'er really needed the help. Within minutes, it was over, their superior skills leaving the four boys on the floor moaning and whining. He had landed a particularly gratifying punch on Yuwen Huai's face that was sure to leave a black eye. Not to be outdone, Yan Xun had left Zhao Xifeng with a split lip.

Yue'er made to leave, not surprised when the prince trailed him out. "Yuwen Yue, isn't it? I've heard a lot about you."

"Prince Yan Xun," Yue'er acknowledged with a bow. "Your honorable reputation precedes you as well."

"Oh please, don't. Aren't we already past all that?" The smile Yan Xun turned on him was so open and honest, Yue'er was actually taken aback. Was this young prince even real? He seemed only a few years younger than himself, if even that. The imperial court would leave him in pieces after all the intrigues played out.

"Thank you for your…assistance," said Yue'er rather stiffly. Hearing about this prince and seeing him was a bit different than actually meeting him. He was oddly charismatic.

Yan Xun shrugged off the thanks with enviable ease, although he seemed to appreciate that it was a rare gesture to get from the other boy. "I'm sure you had it all handled before I even showed up. I hear you're an excellent rider and archer." He gave him a sidelong look. "How about it, Yuwen Yue? Let's go hunting together tomorrow."

Yue'er hesitated. Grandfather would probably disapprove of getting to know the hostage prince. He would say something about there being no benefit and only a lot of liability. For some reason, this just made him actually want to do it.

"Tomorrow at dawn," he found himself saying. "But not for competition, just for sport."

Yan Xun looked inordinately pleased. "Then it's settled. We're going to be good friends, Yuwen Yue."

That was how he had first met the prince of Yanbei, a boy so charming that he managed to get past all even Yuwen Yue's guarded aloofness. They were a strange and unlikely pair, but they balanced each other out. It was strange to think that more than a decade ago, even as precocious of a child as he had been, he could not have grasped that their childhood grudges and alliances would turn into life and death struggles. Perhaps he should have been able to guess that Yuwen Huai would advance from tired insults to tired attempts to send assassins after him.

Yuwen Yue again paced around his study. He could enlist the help of Chun'er to convince her royal father to spare Yan Xun's life, but how was he going to save Xing'er? Yuwen Huai would ensure that the emperor used every resource to track down the killer of a high ranking noble like Yuwen Xi. If only she had made it away with Yan Xun—being fugitives in Yan Bei had been the safest, perhaps only, option for both of them. He cursed, once again, his grandfather's henchman for shooting the ice arrow that brought Yan Xun down.

He remembered the way that Xing'er had looked at Yan Xun when they had taken down Yuwen Huai together. Despite the danger, despite their situation, she had given him such a genuine smile, her eyes bright and her whole expression reflecting her satisfaction. Yuwen Yue felt a stab of envy at their easy camaraderie. Smiling fools, both of them.

Yuwen Yue gritted his teeth, abhorring every minute that passed without his spy reporting in with news of what was going on at the prison. Tomorrow, he would be there to witness—no, to _aid in_ —his best friend's world being utterly destroyed. Although he had always felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, he had never understood with such clarity how trapped he was in the strict hierarchies and roles that they were all born to and could only escape through death. He understood now the hatred Xing'er expressed at the injustice of the world.

No one would dare kill Yan Xun before the trial tomorrow, but anything could happen to Xing'er. It killed him to admit that he might not be able to protect her. The only way she could be free from the emperor's reach was if she was dead.

The only way she could be free from the emperor's reach was if she was dead...

Yuwen Yue stilled as the beginnings of plan finally came to him. But first, he needed to see with his own eyes that she was safe.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Both Xing'er and Yan Xun were heavily guarded, although Yan Xun's prison cell had twice the number of guards stationed outside.

Yuwen Yue had managed to slip into the prison without alerting a single person—the security was not lax, but they were understandably more guarded against prisoners breaking out than anyone crazy enough to try to infiltrate in.

He waited until two of the four men guarding Xing'er left to rotate out, estimating he had a handful of minutes while they walked to the main station and the new guards came back. Meanwhile he readied one of his most invaluable tools of the spy trade and deployed it.

The guards in front of her cell only saw a strange silver device fly slowly toward them, a rather beautiful metal thing that seemed to hover in midair while making sinuous, figure eight shapes. One guard shook his head at first as if to shake off the blur before his eyes, but soon both of them were staring at the device, hypnotized so thoroughly they were no longer aware of their surroundings.

It would only work for a few minutes, but the hypnosis instrument was perfect for this situation. He couldn't simply knock out the guards or take the chance that someone would raise an alarm. But with the instrument at work, the guards would be occupied for a short period of time and best of all, forget that anything unusual ever happened once the mesmerizing influence wore off. They wouldn't even remember that something unusual had happened during their shift. He could simply go up to them, ignoring their blank, slack-mouthed, faces, grab the keys, unlock the cell, and let himself in.

It took all of Yuwen Yue's restraint not to kill them anyway. He had overheard their conversation before his hypnosis device had distracted them into silence. They had been reminiscing about how they had molested the last female prisoner, even though she had that squalling toddler with her. They were expressing their delight that this new one was so young and pretty, while enthusiastically discussing what they would do to her.

He was breathing hard from keeping his rage in check by the time he saw her. Xing'er was resting against one wall, dozing quietly although tears trailed down her cheeks. She looked worse for wear but still unharmed. His eyes quickly skimmed over her form, checking for dangerous injuries. Clever girl, she had made a hole in the wall so that she could talk to Yan Xun. But whatever she was dreaming of gave her such an expression of such pain and heartbreak.

"I believed you," Xing'er murmured disconsolately, and Yuwen Yue started at the sudden sound. In the next moment, her eyes flew open and she jumped to her feet, weaponless but ready to defend herself.

His face was covered with a soft black cloth mask but she recognized him immediately.

"You!" she hissed, and Yuwen Yue's heart almost stopped. It was too loud, it would wake the guards from their enthrallment—then she was attacking, throwing herself at him, and in one fluid motion, he caught her and twisted her around and against him, hands tightly wrapped around both of her wrists. She ended up hugging herself, arms crossed, her back pressed up right against his front, locked in by his arms. Even through all the layers of clothing between them, he could feel the ferocity and strain in every muscle of her body as she fought him.

" _Shhhh_ ," he whispered into her ear. "You'll bring the guards on us." The fight had eaten up precious seconds of time. He only had a couple minutes left before the fresh guards arrived and the old ones were released from the hypnotism.

"You will see things tomorrow that will make you hate me," he said softly but quickly. She struggled but he only held her tighter, subduing her with his whole body.

"I already loathe you, Yuwen Yue," she shot back with trembling intensity. "I should call the guards so they can kill you!"

"Listen to me, Xing'er. Please." He said it so fervently that it actually gave her pause and she stopped trying to break free. "I don't have enough time to explain everything. Whatever you see me doing, I am trying to protect you and Yan Xun."

The strands of her hair brushed his face as she shook her head in denial. "I've seen the results of your 'protection.' You can't fool me any longer."

"Please, Xing'er. Will you trust me one more time?" he begged.

But Yuwen Yue could tell by the way she went stiff as a board in his arms that it was the exact wrong thing to say. He had no time to fix this, to make her understand.

"I can't help you escape now, but I will do everything I can to make sure Yan Xun survives," he promised. "And I'll get you out afterward. Xing'er, you know me. The real me."

He released her. If he cut it too close and the guards caught him, he would truly be the biggest fool in existence. His need for her to know and understand had to be secondary to actually saving her.

She turned to look at him, her gaze broken and dead. "I don't know you at all, Yuwen Yue. You have no more power over me."

He had already slipped out of the cell and locked it behind him again. The guards were blinking and rubbing their eyes instead of looking at the silvery metal piece, but thankfully still didn't notice him where he stood a few feet away from them.

He looked at her one last time through the rusty metal bars. She was his falling star, and he would catch her no matter the cost. If she hated him but survived, so be it.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : Part 4, "Gilded Cages" covers what happens in the aftermath of the events Jiuyou Pavillion. Part 5 will be about what each of them are doing during those three years. **Please leave a comment below and let me know your thoughts!** I haven't proofread this just yet so sorry for the typos and mistakes that I didn't catch. If you have suggestions, critiques, anything, feel free to share. I can't tell you how much your comments and enthusiasm mean to me – I wouldn't be writing this if not for the reviews and messages you guys left telling me that yes, you do want more.


	4. Gilded Cages

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

September 18, 2017

 **Author's Note** : This happens around uncut episode 27, after Jiuyou Pavilion. I know the misunderstandings are frustrating and it can be annoying to read about them again, but please bear with me for a bit longer. One of the issues with PA is that you often don't know what is going on in Chu Qiao's mind and you have to guess at her reaction. For example, when Yan Xun confronts Yuwen Yue while in the prison and declares their friendship to be over, what is her blank expression supposed to mean? Is she angry, sad, or shocked? Does she realize that the prison guards will report the conversation back to the Emperor, so Yuwen Yue is limited in what he can say or deny? And later on, when he "kills" her to save her from Yuwen Huai, what is she actually thinking?

There are just so many missed opportunities for our poor XingYue ship and I think these moments deserve more exploration, although my take on them changes the drama in some subtle but important ways. Anyway, I know these one shots aren't the normal kind of chaptered story but I hope you guys still enjoy them ;)

* * *

 **Gilded Cages**

* * *

 _My luck has finally run out_ , Chu Qiao thought bleakly as Yuwen Huai sat like a peacock on a wooden throne, carrying out this mockery of a trial. _He isn't going to let this end without seeing me dead._

Even when forced to kneel, she kept her head high, her eyes unwavering as she stared defiantly at her captors. If she had a chance to do it all over, she would gladly kill Yuwen Xi again. What he truly deserved was a slow and painful death for each woman he had tortured, each life he had so casually taken. She couldn't help but feel that most of the men of the Yuwen family were scum, just some more obvious than others.

The one thing she did regret was that her death would no doubt push Yan Xun over the breaking point again. Not only had the prince of Yanbei lost his entire family, he would soon lose even her.

As for Yan Xun's former best friend, he was standing behind her, having made yet another suspiciously timely arrival. She could almost feel the heat of his gaze on her back, could almost hear the promise he'd so vehemently made to her that he would save Yan Xun's life and get her out of prison. That was the night before Yan Xun's entire world fell apart, all while this man standing like an unwanted shadow behind her presided over it all. He had begged her to trust him one more time but that trust had been broken long before they had met once again at Jiuyou Pavilion.

 _Yuwen Yue, what kind of game are you playing now?_ she thought, and then she was forced to her feet by Yuwen Huai, his hand choking her even has he taunted his cousin. She wanted to laugh bitterly at Yuwen Huai's desperate attempts to provoke anger from her former master. She wanted to tell him that he was wasting his time; Yuwen Yue didn't like her, didn't care about her fate one way or another. He was a man who could kiss her heatedly one day and then the next, coldly contemplate sacrificing her life for his family's ambitions. His despicable cousin had it all backward. The only one who had been foolish enough to let feelings get involved was herself, like a naïve village girl falling for a highborn lord's son.

And the worst part was that some little corner of her heart still beat faster with hope, just knowing he was here. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn't shake the secret belief that he had come to try to save her.

Yuwen Huai's fingers dug deeply and painfully into the tender hollows of her neck where her pulse beat frantically like a trapped bird. A surge of fury—that she was reduced to _this_ , just some pawn to be used against the great and all important Yuwen Yue—kept her conscious, but barely. Black spots began to cloud her vision, her eyes fluttering shut despite all her willpower. Even the panic surging through her body began to subside.

The sudden stab of the needle into her side surprised both her and Yuwen Huai so much that he loosened his grip enough for a temporary reprieve. Helplessly her eyes still turned toward Yuwen Yue, even as all the strength left her limbs, the blood in her veins suddenly feeling sluggish and hot enough to melt through her skin.

What had he done to her? Was it poison? Was he…killing her?

Yuwen Yue's expression was still impassive. Chu Qiao couldn't even make a sound. Her body felt like it had been set on fire. Blood filled her mouth and she fell to the ground as a terrifying paralysis took over, her heart pounding slower and slower, too loud in her ears. Maybe he had meant it to be an act of mercy, sparing her a more tortured death at the hands of Yuwen Huai. Or maybe this was the final confirmation that she was a fool to believe in him.

The last thing she heard him saying was that since she couldn't be controlled, she was better off dead.

 _Xing'er, you know me. The real me_. He had pleaded for her understanding in the prison.

Once, he had blinded her just to force her to develop her other senses. That was the man she had admired enough to become his spy. That was the man whom she had thought cared for her, who had protected her while teaching her to protect herself.

The last thing she saw was his hand clenched into a fist by his side, half hidden by his robes.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Chu Qiao came awake with a gasp, sitting up so abruptly that the world whirled around her and she fell right back onto the soft straw pallet. She opened her eyes again more cautiously this time, looking around in confusion. She was in a small room with only the barest of furnishings. But before she could examine her surroundings more closely, the door opened.

"Good, you're finally awake." Zhong Yu looked pleased.

Chu Qiao had to swallow a few times before finding her voice, and even then she barely croaked out her half formed thoughts. "He…the needle… How am I still alive?"

"Well, I wasn't sure you would pull through, but you must have quite a will to survive. Actually, when I found you, I thought you were already gone." Zhong Yu took a seat besides Chu Qiao on the bed, her fine brows drawing together in the faintest consternation.

"I thought I was dying." Chu Qiao weakly admitted. Zhong Yu laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes, hot tears suddenly threatening to well beneath her eyelids.

"When you were taken by Yuwen Huai, I tracked you to the prison only to arrive there when Yuwen Yue's guards were bringing your body out. There was some confusion when Yue Qi was summoned away, but the rest of the guards handed over your corpse to those transporting other bodies to the cremation site."

Seeing Chu Qiao's pale face blanch even whiter, Zhong Yu hurriedly went on. "I found you before they started burning the bodies and carried you away, thinking that at the very least, you needed a proper burial. I knew the prince would be already be devastated."

"Yan Xun!" Chu Qiao forgot all about her own predicament and struggled to a sitting position, but Zhong Yu stopped her from trying to rise with a quick look. "He is safe for now and I even managed to find your sisters. You can see them later before they leave for Yanbei."

After that news, even Chu Qiao couldn't stop herself from crying a few tears of relief. "So how is it that I'm alive?"

"I noticed that strangely, I could not tell _how_ you had been killed, only that you had no pulse. You had a necklace of bruises around your throat—they're even more spectacular now—but you didn't show any signs of suffocation. Nor did you have broken bones or wounds. Finally, I saw the needle in your side. It was so small that I almost missed it." Zhong Yu paused now, expression grave and thoughtful.

"It did something to me. Just moments after it struck me, it felt like my blood was boiling and my body lost all its strength. It's the last thing I remember." Chu Qiao looked at Zhong Yu, noticing the strange expression on the other woman's face.

"A Chu, who struck you with the needle?"

Chu Qiao turned her eyes away, unable to meet Zhong Yu's direct, assessing look, for fear that her own expression gave too much away. Yuwen Yue's last words echoed in her ears and despite herself, she began to cry in earnest now, her heart breaking all over again as she realized that he truly had meant to kill her. He had left her for dead, to be burned in a mass grave. She remembered again how she had found her sister's body.

How could she have believed him? How could her feelings have been so easily manipulated by a few choice words of kindness, some moments here and there? Shame and bitterness filled her when she remembered how pleased she had been whenever she passed one of his tests, whenever she felt like she proved herself to him. How, like a young girl, she had been unable to suppress her delight when he had given her the rabbit lantern at the festival, even as the adult, rational part of her put freedom first.

"It will be all right, A Chu. We will persevere." Zhong Yu tried to comfort her, but the warrior maiden could only offer words of encouragement. "What you've suffered, what Yan Xun has lost, the blood spilt through all of Yanbei… As long as we're alive, there is hope for vengeance."

Chu Qiao couldn't answer, her throat too choked with tears, her heart feeling so bruised that every breath hurt. How selfish was she, to cry over a death she had not even suffered in truth, when Yan Xun had irreversibly lost his entire family? When there was an entire nation of newly made widows and orphans? So what if her every last illusion about Yuwen Yue had shattered with Zhong Yu's story.

"But, A Chu, the needle wasn't the work of Yuwen Huai, was it?"

Why was Zhong Yu so determined to come back to this painful point? Chu Qiao just wanted to move on. She wanted to say goodbye to her sisters and go back to Yan Xun's side, and most of all, plan on how to defeat every single enemy who had taken so much from them, from her _._ Including maybe even _him_. She still remembered the thin red line of blood her sword had left on his throat, her inability to commit to her threats on his life.

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest but she ignored it. "No, Yuwen Huai was trying to choke me to death, but the needle came from Yuwen Yue."

Zhong Yu gave a slight nod at that, as if confirming some inner thought. Still, she hesitated. "A Chu...I don't know what is between you and Yuwen Yue, but—"

"Nothing," Chu Qiao interrupted, her voice too loud in the small room. "There was nothing between us."

If anything, Zhong Yu's expression gentled even more, hints of sympathy in her eyes. "I only wanted to tell you, A Chu, that the reason why I was able to save you was because the needle was placed very precisely. Very few people alive would know how to do it. It blocked your circulation, making you faint and slowing down your pulse to the point that it was undetectable. By all appearances, you were dead."

Chu Qiao stared at her. "What are you saying, Miss Yu?"

Zhong Yu looked uncomfortable. "The needle wasn't meant to kill you, A Chu. Yuwen Yue by all accounts is highly skilled. He could have struck you more easily at a dozen other points to ensure your immediate death. It's true that if the needle had been left there, you would have died, but all I had to do was remove it. The only reason you took so long to recover was because your blood had been blocked for nearly too long."

Seeing the blank expression on Chu Qiao's face, she hastened to add, "I thought you might want to know. I don't know why you were brought to the cremation site, but I don't believe that was his plan."

"He still left me to die," Chu Qiao said, but even to her own ears she sounded unsure. But when she closed her eyes, all she felt was exhaustion from the constant guessing game she played with herself about whether to trust the man she had _thought_ she had known.

She couldn't seem to forget all the moments between them, small and large—like how he had risked his life for hers when they had been trapped in the underground cave. But Yuwen Yue had also betrayed his best friend and planned to use her as a disposable spy. She had been certain until just now that he had truly meant to kill her with the needle, and there was still a chance that Zhong Yu was giving him far too much credit and attributing noble intentions where there had been none. The list of wrongs Yuwen Yue had committed against her seemed somehow both enormously weighty and lacking in certainty. She simply couldn't resolve it.

Zhong Yu offered her some water and Chu Qiao drank, the cool liquid soothing her bruised neck and throat. "Even if what you say is true, I would have been burned to death."

"That is true," the other woman affirmed quietly, "and I am glad that I found you when I did."

"Thank you for saving my life," Chu Qiao said quietly. Zhong Yu seemed so steadfast, so wise and composed even in the face of endless difficulties. She felt like a mess in comparison, especially in her current state. "I have a request to make of you, Miss Yu. Please don't tell Yan Xun what you just told me. In fact, if he asks about how I escaped from Yuwen Huai, let him come to me."

Zhong Yu studied her for a moment, expression unfathomable, but simply nodded in the end. "I understand. You don't want to make things even more complicated for him. I will keep your secrets, A Chu, unless they endanger him. Prince Yan Xun will need both of us by his side in the coming days."

The determination behind that simple statement helped Chu Qiao steady her chaotic thoughts. Zhong Yu, as usual, had it exactly right. She had no more room in her life for Yuwen Yue, whether as an enemy, ally, or something in between. She has space only in her heart and mind for a distant dream of freedom and peace in Yanbei, and for that she would gladly follow Yan Xun to the ends of the world to help him achieve the revenge that needed to come first. She had nearly died, but that was nothing compared to what had taken place on that blood-soaked day at Jiuyou Pavilion. She would find a way to end Yuwen Huai's life, but she could not forget that he was only a single petty, stupid man.

Yan Xun's destiny would be to avenge a whole nation. He would free his people from the oppression of the Wei emperor, and she would be beside him every step of the way.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Qing Shan Yuan, his beautiful and beloved home, was nothing more than a gilded cage. Yuwen Yue had realized this long ago, at an early age, when he had first been initiated into the Yuwen family secrets—and in particular, the intelligence gathering that made up the core of the Eyes of God. He could not really remember what it had been like to not have that enormous responsibility on him.

Still, it had been a cage that he had been content to stay in until now. Part of it was that although he chafed at the restrictions of his position, he truly believed that he had a duty to his people—a term that encompassed family, yes, but also everyone from Yue Qi to the lowliest kitchen pot scrubber.

But now, the sight of the iron and silver belled maidservants was unbearable. The walls of his empty bedchamber, where he sat in darkness at night, were suffocating. He couldn't even force himself to visit the clandestine passageways and hidden training grounds. Her ghost was everywhere in Qing Shan Yuan, ready to ambush him around every corner. Days turned into nights, which turned into days.

He thought the single best highlight of his life from that point on might be the moment when he had provoked his mad cousin to recklessness and had seen with his own eyes the countless documents and secrets of the Eyes of God burning down to ashes. But even that had only been a fleeting satisfaction.

To think that Yuwen Huai hadn't killed Xing'er after all…that in fact, it was his own hand that had done it…

Yuwen Yue drank deeply, but neither the hot burn of the alcohol nor the fact that he no longer cared which wine jar he was on could erase the thoughts that flooded his mind. She was gone forever because of his arrogance. He had thought he was so very clever, that he'd outwitted Yuwen Huai at his own game. Instead, all he was left with were ashes and regrets.

"Young master." Yue Qi greeted him with a half bow, his service flawless as always. If the state of his young master surprised him, he didn't show it. "Grandfather summons you urgently."

Yuwen Yue looked at his bodyguard and devoted right hand man. Out of everyone at Qing Shan Yuan, Yue Qi alone knew exactly what had happened. He hadn't known about the needle's effects but he had suspected that the young master had some plan and that Chu Qiao was not actually dead. But in his absence, he had failed to make sure the other guards secured her body. Yuwen Yue knew that Yue Qi blamed himself, too, although the truth was, he could have done little to change the outcome. But now, his boyish face showed almost too much understanding and sympathy.

"Inform Grandfather that the emperor has sent me to the border," said Yuwen Yue. "I will oversee the border army and stamp out the conflict there with the rebels."

"Yes, young master," Yue Qi replied before leaving promptly, not hesitating at all even though he was going to have to face the brunt of Yuwen Zhuo's anger at his grandson's continued avoidance.

The Emperor's new edict, which had indirectly helped cost Xing'er her life, was one that Yuwen Yue welcomed now. There was nothing left for him here in Chang'an. He had no interest in maintaining his spy network, though they still reported diligently. He had briefly thought about sending some spies to the Oriole Courtyard, where Yan Xun would presumably live under house arrest for the next three years, but the last report he read was that the prince was being protected by that formidable woman, Zhong Yu, and as well as some other Yanbei loyalist who had accompanied her.

The thought of his former friend was just another blow when he was already on the ground. In the end, Yuwen Yue decided against it. He had already taken care of the threat from Yuwen Huai by forcing him out of Chang'an. Whatever happened in the Oriole Courtyard, he would be powerless to stop it anyway, just as he had been powerless to stop the bloodshed in Yanbei or the murders of Yan Xun's family members. He didn't want to know.

Yuwen Yue was learning that for a lot of things, it was better not to know. Although he had been haunted by his mother's death and the circumstances surrounding it for years, finding out the truth had not been the consolation he had expected. Nor did he have an opportunity to take revenge on Yuwen Xi for what he had done. Xing'er had seen to that while he had still been duty bound not to raise a hand against his own blood.

Perhaps, he thought, it had been her last gift to him, even if she had not known it. His sword chimed with the sound of silver bells as he drew it, the innocent sound a harsh contrast to the deadly steel.

The conditions at the contested borders of the Wei state were harsh and forgiving, a world apart from the comforts and peaceful serenity of Qing Shan Yuan. But though it would be dangerous and he would again have the responsibility of men's lives on his shoulders, he would welcome the change.

Yuwen Yue understood how Xing'er had felt now. As much as the gilded bars of Qing Shan Yuan had kept her safe and secure, they had also kept her from the freedom of determining her own destiny. And had the superficially idyllic, closed world of Qing Shan Yuan really offered protection for any of them, in the end? Birds in pretty cages could still die of heartbreak.

He was ready to become a different man.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : So first of all, I'm sorry for the extra long wait and thank you so much for sticking with me. You already know what happened if you've seen my profile. I did have to rewrite half of this, which was not fun. I kept feeling like I was repeating phrases, but the déjà vu was driving me crazy so I didn't go back to edit yet. This one shot was also originally two pages longer but I just couldn't make myself rewrite the last part again (it was a scene with Yan Xun and Chu Qiao in the Oriole Courtyard) and I don't think it added much, so I cut it short.

I hope this doesn't feel too much like a recap, but I had to do it because the change I made was a pretty significant one in our understanding of Chu Qiao. Knowing how she confronted Yuwen Yue about the "suicide spy" thing, don't you think she would've jumped to confront him about killing her with the needle if that's what she really believed? I think her characterization is just too inconsistent after this point in the drama. Despite the spy training she had from YWY, she still believes things as they are on the surface every time and never seems to consider alternative explanations. Our girl seems perpetually oblivious of what's really going on around her, whether it's Yuwen Yue or Yan Xun.

Anyway, from this point on the drama was kind of a mess with all sorts of side plots that didn't tie together well, so I'll do my best with these one shots. Also, I know my Chinese to English translations are all over the place, some with apostrophes and some not, and I didn't even translate some things. I'll go back make it all consistent when I have more time, but tell me if it gets too confusing.

Next up: Lots of questions to explore, like how Chu Qiao can want to protect innocent people and yet make plans with Yan Xun that would get thousands massacred. How come she didn't know his other plans, like drowning half of Chang'an? How did all their characters develop in the three years? (That's something that was skipped over in the drama, so YX goes straight into evil mode, helped with a lot of eyeliner.) What did she think would happen during the rebellion, or was she okay with the price of innocent civilian lives? How is it that CQ never confronts YX about his dirty betrayal of the Xiulis? I mean, yes, the storyline goes on a long detour, but that was just glossed over.

 **Please review and let me know your thoughts**! Thank you for reading :)


	5. Broken Rainbow

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

September 29, 2017

 **Author's Note** : Some scenes from the 3 year interlude, going up to the end of episode 30. The title here is my translation of Can Hong Jian in an obvious reference to the sword switch that happens, although the name is a bit hard to translate so I've taken some poetic license. The character literally means a (残虹) destroyed, or ruined rainbow. The second character, "hong" (虹) is a homonym for red, which along with the color of the scabbard, is probably why I've seen it sometimes translated as red. The counterpart, the Po Yue sword, means "broken moon" sword. If you want to get a bit more poetic or active with it, "breaking moon" or "shattered moon."

Also, there are some big plot holes from the drama, although I kind of tried to give an explanation last time and go into detail more here. It's hard to believe that Yuwen Yue would not have found out that Chu Qiao is still alive sometime in the three years. However, we do know that he was heartbroken after her "death" and gave up his work with the Eyes of God, handing it over to Yue Qi instead. Prince Xiang even makes a point of telling him to stop running from his responsibilities and his position, since he's wasting his talents as spymaster while being a general. My take on it is that since Zhong Yu is careful to the point of paranoia, Yue Qi's spies were only able to confirm that Yan Xun was still doing okay. Yuwen Yue would have definitely demanded better intelligence about Yan Xun's other companions, but poor Yue Qi was stuck suddenly with his duties (talk about being above his pay grade!) and dealing with Yuwen Zhuo too.

Also, you know that scene between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao for "Gilded Cages" that I couldn't make myself rewrite after my laptop accident? The end result was still something I think needed to be included so it's brought up here, but in retrospect. I think you guys will prefer this anyway, since I got a lot of replies that made it clear no one is too interested in exploring Yan Xun's turn to the dark side. The only downside is that it's another passive scene. I'm used to writing more action, but I'm also used to developing my own plot.

Now you guys will finally see why I wrote that scene that particular way from Part 2 aka "Lessons of the Heart"! I'm excited for your reactions :)

* * *

 **Broken Rainbow**

* * *

It was days like this, the sunlight falling down in a golden curtain over the serene beauty of the Oriole courtyard, which made her think too much. Chu Qiao watched silently, hidden by both the tree foliage and the thick column beside her, as Yan Xun practiced his martial arts. Each flurry of blows and strikes flowed into the next, a startling combination of offensive and defensive maneuvers that awed her. She found herself holding her breath sometimes too at the intensity with which Yan Xun executed his attacks, the underlying savagery that was a little frightening because it hinted at his desire for real bloodshed.

With each month that passed, his stoicism seemed to grow no matter how much she tried to reach him. Her lighthearted jokes never brought a smile to his lips; sometimes she wondered if he even heard them, for all the acknowledgement he showed. They no longer had easy conversations like those first months, when their survival was a continuing struggle that irrevocably bonded them together. In fact, the closer they got to the end of his three year sentence, the more focused Zhong Yu and Yan Xun became on planning and strategy, until Chu Qiao sometimes felt out of place with them, her passion for revenge not quite being able to match theirs.

That was natural, she assured herself. Though her heart ached for Yan Xun and what he had suffered, though she knew that the Wei army had killed thousands of innocents in Yanbei, she just did not have the same connection that Yan Xun and Zhong Yu did to them. She had adopted their cause for her own, but sometimes in the silence of her own room, lying uneasily awake at night after more talk of how to throw Chang'an into chaos, she wondered if she was a fake. She could dedicate her life to him, but she couldn't quite dedicate everything, and especially not her heart.

Last night, this had become startling clear. Chu Qiao often didn't know herself what it was she wanted, but nevertheless she had always held herself back. From the start, Yan Xun had always done little things to show that his feelings for her went beyond friendship. Although she had never reciprocated, she had also never harshly denied him, either. Once, the huge gap in their stations had made his pursuit of her little more than a ridiculous whim, but the intimacy of living together for years in the Oriole courtyard with few other souls around had changed things between them. She cared for him deeply, which certainly was already more than what most relationships in their world were based on, but… But she just didn't _know_.

Yan Xun seemed to expect that she would give in eventually and his certainty made her doubt herself. A confused part of her thought that maybe she just needed more time. _More time even after two years?_ part of her mocked. But after all, she didn't even know for sure what love felt like, so how could she be so sure that she couldn't ever feel them for him?

Except she had pushed him away. Forcefully. It had been instinctive, but that said something too, didn't it? He had been standing so close to her that she could feel his body heat even with the layers of clothing between them, and he had murmured something before his head tilted down closer to her face, and then she had just reacted.

Chu Qiao's face burned even in remembrance. She didn't even know if Yan Xun had really been about to kiss her. Maybe he had just leaned closer to whisper a secret in her ear. Still, the shock on his face and the coolness in his eyes had been as unmistakable as her rejection. She had muttered an apology and fled before more could be said.

Now, as she secretly watched Yan Xun practicing, a death wish on every swing of his sword, too many memories came flooding back. Over the last two year, she had forced away all thought of _him_ —she had deliberately locked away each memory and had done her best to throw away the key, declaring to herself that her past was dead. _He_ had killed his Xing'er and she needed to leave it at that or she would go mad wondering what could have been. She had seen her own grave and had been surprised that he had left Can Hong Jian, a priceless weapon of the Yuwen house. She had taken it as the last reminder of her previous life, but the only way she could afford to look was forward. She couldn't even bear to think of his name.

But she had once lived in another serene and beautiful courtyard, had once trained alongside with and learned from another man. When she made and poured tea for Yan Xun, her arms posed in graceful lines as if she were still a silver-belled maid, sometimes she couldn't stop the memories, or the questions. Did _he_ somehow know that she was still alive and with Yan Xun? Or had he mourned her death at all? If what Zhong Yu had told her years ago was true, he had never intended for her to die. She shivered, a strange, aching pain coming over her when she realized he would have thought he killed her. And how had he reacted to that?

Back then, everything had happened so fast, her feelings had been a confused blur. Then came that secret nighttime visit in the jail—she could still hear his voice low in her ear, that plea for her to trust him—all of which meant nothing after Jiuyou Pavilion. And yet, whatever thoughts she successfully suppressed during the day sometimes still visited her dreams at night. She woke up some mornings with tears streaming down her face and her lips burning as she remembered a cold, desolate practice courtyard, her fingers knotted in the fine fabric of his robes as he kissed her.

But it wasn't really the memory of the kiss that brought her to tears. It was the feeling of being so close to someone else, trusting in him so much that she had let down her guard entirely, which was overwhelming. In the perfect space of her dreams, there were no doubts, just a soul deep certainty that he would do anything for her and she would do the same for him. Waking up to reality was disorienting, as if some part of her was being torn. But, she had to remind herself, they were just that—just dreams.

For all she knew, the kiss had been an unusual moment of lust-driven recklessness and meant little to him. Over the years, the only things she had heard came from Zhong Yu's diligent efforts at intelligence gathering. He had left Chang'an. He had been promoted to general, as if anyone needed more proof of his incredible success at anything he set out to do. He remained unmarried, although plenty of families had wanted to ally themselves with the powerful Yuwen house before his departure to the borderlands had been taken as a sign that he had fallen out of the Emperor's favor. Out of all the news, that should not have been what her thoughts had dwelled on, but they did. Unmarried did not mean unattached.

Three years was a long time. He probably had forgotten all about her. But one day, if Yan Xun carried out his plans, she was sure to cross paths with him again. Would he be shocked that she was alive? What would he think when he saw her by Yan Xun's side?

When they met again, would he even care?

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Two years ago this little border town had been a ruin, reduced to nothing more than a ramshackle village with temporary shelters when it once had been a growing trade center. But those who had chosen to stay in Xijiang and rebuild their livelihoods had come from tough, determined stock. Now, shops lined the market area and more people than ever bustled in busy streets, although some were clearly refugees of the ongoing conflict between the rebels and the armies of the Northern Wei state.

Yuwen Yue couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when he saw how far the town had come since he had seen it last. Perhaps he had been shirking his duties as Prince Xiang had said and perhaps as the scion of a noble house, he truly was more suited to be spymaster than general, but he had done some real good in these peoples' lives. As the leader of the Eyes of God, he could influence the lives of many and even change the course of a country, but it was rarely through direct action. But two years ago he had led his newly created army here, his recruits still green, having just finished the training he had devised for them. Their success in fending off the enemies of the Wei had turned the fate of this town and its inhabitants around.

"We will make camp here for a night before continuing tomorrow," he instructed his lieutenant, who nodded and began barking out orders to sort out the logistics. The army wouldn't actually stay in the town, of course, but the soldiers would no doubt be happy to spend some of their hard earned money here, which would be a benefit to the inhabitants too. Though never one much for sentimentality, this would be one of the last few nights he would spend with his men before handing off his command. His journey back to Chang'an would be a long one.

Evidently his soldiers were also eager to give him a sendoff worth remembering, because his protests fell on deaf ears that night as they half dragged him to the lone pleasure house in what barely qualified as the tiny red lantern district of Xijiang. Yuwen Yue could have easily put his foot down but he had been generously plied with wine and went along with it to humor his men. They had spent nearly three years by his side, fighting battle after battle, dealing with natural disasters, and sometimes surviving off all manner of rodents and creatures.

It was only a teahouse, after all, or at least that was what it was officially. Not that Yuwen Yue had ever actually stepped into a real pleasure house, so he didn't exactly know what to expect. But there was also the small matter of his ego still smarting from an offhand comment that Prince Xiang had made about his supposed lack of success with women and how it couldn't be helped since he had the demeanor of a monk.

A _monk._ Yuwen Yue had to grit his teeth at that, especially since he had spent the last three years in unforgiving conditions with his army, surrounded by thousands of men and the tiny fraction of women who chose to travel with the soldiers. When did Prince Xiang find so much time for dalliances himself, anyway? It wasn't like before, when there had been women throwing themselves at his feet, sometimes literally.

Not that he had wanted them then, either. The memory came before he could shove it away, the wine dissolving his usually rigid discipline. An upstart iron bell maid kneeling in front of the doors to his chambers, head held high with resolution…

"What kind of woman will our illustrious general choose?" His lieutenants guffawed as they placed bets with winks and shoves, ignoring his glowering disapproval.

"Large or small?" At first Yuwen Yue was naïve enough to believe that they were referring to an _overall_ size, but the soldier shaped his hands into cups and jiggled them up and down suggestively. He was suddenly glad he could blame the alcohol for the warmth across his face.

Even the youngest of the bunch piped up enthusiastically. "An oval face or round as the moon?"

"He's used to the court ladies. We'll find him someone well fed and pampered…with hands like milk!" another one chimed in. Even as the proprietor of the house came out with a whole gaggle of women—adorned with fake jewels and clothes obviously meant to imitate the fashions of the court in Chang'an—his men didn't let up. The women giggled over the heroic soldiers and their handsome leader, as if his men needed any more encouragement. Yuwen Yue nearly sighed. As much as he had grown close to them, for a moment he dearly missed Yue Qi, who would have never put him in a position like this.

"No, no. After three years on the road, maybe he wants a wild thing instead." A vice captain made a hissing sound like a wild cat and crooked his fingers into claws. His men burst into laughter but Yuwen Yue hardly heard them.

That had been Yan Xun's nickname for her. Little wildcat. Yuwen Yue had not wanted to admit that the description had suited her well, which was partly why he had been so determined to give her a new one. She was his Xing'er.

And he had killed her.

Yuwen Yue was so lost in his sudden misery that he almost didn't notice when one of the girls draped herself across his lap and raised a cup of tea to his lips, ostensibly "serving" it to him. Instinctively his hand came up to steady the teacup, his fingers covering her hand. She giggled at the touch and leaned back further into him, looking up coquettishly with bright eyes, her pretty face round and her features unusually sweet. He blinked, certain he was seeing wrong in the dim lighting, but the resemblance was still there. The girl's hair was even done up like a maid's.

"How may I serve you, Young Master?" she breathed. "Is it more wine that you are thirsty for? Or perhaps you would like some pickled fruit?"

Yuwen Yue froze, the innocent words doing unimaginable damage to him as his heart constricted in his chest and twisted painfully. It was as if he could hear the very faintest echo of her in this girl, and it repulsed him and angered him even as he wanted to hold fast onto this last illusion of her, like the memories might slip away from him if he closed his eyes. He didn't even notice that his men had left them alone after finding their own companionship from the group of teahouse women.

The girl was looking at him boldly, her eyes directly meeting his when he gave no response. That, too, made it difficult for him to breath.

"Xing'er…" He didn't mean to but the name slipped out and for a moment, Yuwen Yue was ashamed of the sheer need that he heard in his own voice. The longing. The pain, and the vulnerability.

The girl had heard it as well and something softened in her expression as she dropped the coquettish act. Was this something she saw from soldiers missing their wives and lovers after years apart?

"I can be her if that is what you desire," she offered simply. "I am here for you, Young Master."

For a moment he wondered what it would be like if he gave in. No amount of wine could erase her memory and no amount of distance from Qing Shan Yuan or her grave could lessen the guilt he felt over her death. He had run away from the pain as much as he had run away from his responsibilities in Chang'an, but even after three years, it still sometimes felt like yesterday. She was beyond his reach forever. What would it be like to lose himself for a night, even if it was only a pretense?

The girl said nothing more, only leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder, and it almost felt right, before it felt so very wrong.

Yuwen Yue drew away from her stood up abruptly, head swimming with wine and his churning emotions. To her credit, the girl didn't protest. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight, the naked sympathy in her gaze making him turn away. Damn his men for bringing him here and damn himself for almost going along with it. He felt sick, though he didn't know whether it was with the knowledge that he had been tempted or with the fact that he couldn't bring himself to even touch another woman, not even now.

"She's lucky to have a handsome young soldier like you love her." The girl's voice was wistful and a little sad. "Sometimes that's what we girls dream about: for someone rich and powerful to fall in love with us and take us away. Even to be a maid in one of those noble houses…" Her voice trailed off and she gave a self-conscious laugh.

He reached for it like the lifeline that it was, realizing she didn't truly have any idea of his identity. "How did you end up here?"

She shrugged. "I come from a family of refugees. We fled to Xijiang when the border wars left us with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and there were seven other mouths to feed. This way, at least I can protect my little sisters…at least for a little while longer. Until they're older."

It could not have been an uncommon story, but again it reminded him of her. Seeing the pain in Yuwen Yue's expression, the girl spoke up tentatively. "Why aren't you with her? Does she not love you back?"

"She's dead." His voice came out broken and rough. _I killed her_ , he almost added.

"Oh." It was as if she had heard his thought, but though she shrank back a little at his dark expression, she stood her ground. "I'm sorry for you."

He turned away to face the screen doors, not wanting to see her pity. With those words lingering between them, he left.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

It was hard to say who was more eager for Yuwen Yue's return to Qing Shan Yuan: his grandfather or the captain of his guard. Yue Qi had handled things in his absence, including the daunting task of keeping the Eyes of God together and working smoothly, but he had often felt like a man on a leaking sailboat tasked with scooping out water. He was staying afloat, but he was out of his depth when it came to the complexities of running an entire spy organization. Even with as frequent communications between as them as could be managed, it was an incredibly daunting task.

Yue Qi had thought nothing could surprise him much after nearly three years of this work, but the latest request from Yuwen Yue had him shaking his head in puzzlement. His orders were quite simple, though he could only guess at the reasoning behind them. Fourteen young women were on their way to Qing Shan Yuan and it was his task to make arrangements in order to help them find reputable employment in the city if household positions couldn't be found for them. The way Yuwen Yue had worded the message made him wonder if perhaps the women weren't quite in reputable employment before.

Yue Qi could understand if the young master had finally found a sweetheart and wanted to send her home to keep her safe, after his heartbreak in losing Xing'er. But _fourteen_? Where on earth had Yuwen Yue found so many women while leading an army full of men? And why?

This was almost surely going to infuriate Yuwen Zhuo as much as his grandson's other recent order: to give emancipation papers to all of the slaves in the Yuwen household. Though the newly freed servants' wages were small, it was a considerable step up from nothing. Most of the former slaves had chosen to stay, but Yuwen Zhuo had certainly flown into a rage at the thought of the new drain on the family coffers. It was a good thing that Yue Qi had gone over the full accounting of the family's wealth himself and was able to report to both Yuwen Zhuo and Yuwen Yue that they were in a quite healthy state, thanks to better management as well as increased alliances with other families due to Yuwen Yue's still rising status.

Still, Yan Xun's three years of house arrest were almost up and the Emperor would have to decide what to do with him and the continued instability in Yanbei. Yue Qi felt exhausted just thinking about the many reports he still needed to sort through—and worse yet, despite all his best efforts and sending the best spies they had, he still couldn't give his master a clear report of what had been going on in Oriole Courtyard for the past three years. Zhong Yu's detailed precautions made it almost impossible for anyone to get in or out, let alone get close to Yan Xun's inner circle. They had at least two other allies within, including a mysterious woman who had shown up just as Yan Xun had been escorted to the Oriole Courtyard, but Yue Qi still could not ascertain her identity or background.

It was almost certain that Yan Xun was planning _something_ , just as the Emperor was no doubt making decisions about his fate, but what were their plans? Would Yan Xun dare to threaten the Wei emperor's hold on power?

It was fortunate that Yuwen Yue was heading home to Chang'an, and that he had gained a new, powerful ally in Prince Xiang as well. One thing was for certain, Yue Qi mused: the prodigal son would be returning just in time.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

When he had arrived at the royal tomb earlier in the night, Yuwen Yue's only objective had been to see what his cousin had been up to in the three years he had been away. He had not expected Yuwen Huai to be there, of course—if anything, he expected his lazy cousin to have long abandoned his assigned duties, an assumption which proved to be a correct. But neither had he expected to be present on the very night that secret attackers attempted to break in and steal funerary treasures from the tomb.

He would have dismissed it as nothing but a coincidence and a stroke of fortune for the royal family had he not engaged in a fight with one of the assailants. Without a word, they clashed in the darkness, both dressed in black from head to toe, faces covered. It would be hard to explain his own masked presence in the tomb but Yuwen Yue was more concerned about not letting the priceless artifacts be transported away.

Yet even within the first few blows, he knew something was very wrong. The tip of his sword nearly sliced through the robber's throat but something made him hold back his hand at the last moment. Po Yue Jian kissed his opponent's neck just enough for only a grazing cut, as the ferocity of his fighting was suddenly dampened by uncertainty.

With each startlingly quick attack and each defensive evasion, his heart beat even faster and his stomach dropped more, though neither was due to the exertion of combat. Yuwen Yue had always had an incredible memory; it was both his gift and his curse. They moved like water, twisting and turning around each other, fighting against each other and yet in a way still flowing together. He pressed forward and the stranger gave ground, steps light and nimble. It _couldn't_ be, and yet… He could close his eyes and perform this dance flawlessly, using only memory to guide him rather than any of his senses.

Their swords clashed together and then jumped away from each other again, neither pausing long enough to absorb the great impact of the blow. He was moving so fast that the steel was nothing but a silver blur in the darkness of the night, his footing silent and secure even in the unfamiliar surroundings. This, too, was achingly familiar, from a day he could never forget. A high parry, a low feint, and then a great sweep around to catch her off her guard as his knee came up to slam into her hand—

She changed her grip on her blade at the last moment, suddenly. It was a break in the script that they were both following but it was too late for him to adjust. Her sword flew into the air as he disarmed her with a flick of his wrist, but as steel met steel and twisted, the hilt of Po Yue Jian slipped from his grasp as well. She had executed an exact imitation of the disarming move that he had once made on her.

For a breathless instant the heavy swords hung above them, one flipping through the air as the other rose high up before gravity pulled them both down.

" _Are you worthy of the sword I gave you? If you are disarmed so easily, you might as well gift the weapon to your opponent."_

" _I've figured out how to stop you from disarming me each time, but you keep changing to a new tactic. You're not giving me a chance to show you what I've learned."_

" _Of course. That's the point of training. You can't ever rely on your opponent to hold back their hand, even if you usually consider them a friend."_

The moment her sword landed in his hand, the weight so much lighter than Po Yue Jian, he knew. Even before that, there had been no mistaking the brilliant crimson scabbard, a legendary treasure of his own family, and her attacking style was one he knew intimately, one he had taught her. What kind of master wouldn't recognize his own student?

Those were her star-bright eyes staring back at him, above her black veil.

"Xing'er…" he choked out, so soft he could barely hear himself, but she was already gone, the distant sound of her running footsteps echoing down the long tunnel of the tomb's hall. With her were the funerary treasures, but he didn't care. The wrath of Heaven and the emperor could rain down him but he was beyond caring.

Yuwen Yue walked out of the tomb in a daze, barely able to breathe as he replayed every moment of the encounter. He couldn't let himself believe it. Surely this was a hallucination brought on by the ghost of her memory, nothing more than a cruel dream from which he would soon wake. He must have mistaken what had happened. Everything reminded him of Xing'er, but the tomb robber could not be her any more than that girl in Xijiang had been her.

Yue Qi looked at him strangely as he approached, jumping down from the wagon to greet him. His guard's eyebrows were faintly drawn together in worry rather than relief at his appearance. Yuwen Yue said nothing, only handing over his sword. Yue Qi's eyes widened a little at the unusual move but he accepted the weapon, his hand bobbing up at the unexpectedly lighter weight. He quickly drew the sword from Po Yue Jian's scabbard, examining the hilt and blade.

"Can Hong Jian," Yue Qi exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down in his surprise. He turned to his master, a dozen questions in his eyes. "It was Xing'er."

Yuwen Yue felt as if his whole body were disconnected from him. He couldn't deny it to himself any longer. Yue Qi's identification was the last confirmation he had needed. He could feel his hands trembling and he curled his fingers.

This was not a dream. Xing'er was alive.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Chu Qiao bit her lip to keep from wincing as she disinfected the small cut on her throat, but the small pain was nothing compared to the feelings it evoked. Once, when he had dared her to kill him and called her bluff, she had drawn back her knife and given him a similar wound.

She had given a muddled account of events to both Zhong Yu and Yan Xun, telling them only that she had encountered a skilled fighter when she had been getting away. They had still accomplished exactly what they had set out to do, so neither pushed her for more details, though she had caught Zhong Yu giving her sidelong look. She must have acted too strangely right after she had left the tomb, but she had considered it a victory that she had even made it out.

As soon as Po Yue Jian had landed in her hand, she had meant to go. But still her eyes had turned toward his, unable to resist one more look. Had he recognized her? Did he realize exactly who he was fighting? She touched the small bandage on her throat again. It would easily have been a killing blow, but something had held back his hand. Did he remember, as she did so vividly, that day in the courtyard?

Chu Qiao had wondered what she would feel when she saw him again. In a way, she had been anticipating it every day for the last three years, though it had not been what she had imagined. But what _had_ she expected? For him to fall to his knees and confess that her near death had all been a mistake and that he had been trying to save her all along?

She looked at Po Yue Jian. It was exactly as she remembered, much like its owner. The cold metal gleamed in the moonlight from the window of her room. She had cleaned it and oiled it with care, and had discovered, too, what she had overlooked in their journey back to the Oriole Courtyard.

A cluster of small silver bells hung from the hilt, something that might be mistaken as a childish ornament for a general's sword. Most looked worn from exposure, but one looked shinier than the others, as if he had often rubbed his thumb over it. Seeing the bells had made her heart ache the same way it had when she had first seen Can Hong Jian placed so carefully at the foot of her grave. She could never forget it was one half of a pair.

Yuwen Yue would come for his sword. Or perhaps he would come for her.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : So things are finally moving along. I really didn't plan on spending so long on these parts but I couldn't resist having a bit of fun with Yuwen Yue, and of course now you guys know why I wrote Part 2 the way I did—it wasn't completely a gratuitous kiss scene after all. Things will pick up more quickly from here, I promise. Also, again, this has NOT been proofread and edited yet, so my apologies for the unpolished quality and probably the million typos. I'm planning on going back for edits after my licensing test coming up in a couple weeks. I'll also try my best to update as consistently as I can but I do have a lot going on in my life right now, so please be patient with me if I can't get to it. I just have to get through the next month or so.

 **Please review and let me know your thoughts**! It makes me very happy to get your feedback and I'm so grateful for all you wonderful readers. Thank you for reading!


	6. The Red Thread of Fate

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

November 23, 2017

 **Author's Note** : If you're reading this, you've most likely been waiting for an update for a really, REALLY long time, so thank you for still being here. I'm sorry for the long wait and I appreciate everyone who left comments and asked about the lack of updates. To be honest, I've rewritten this author's note about five times so far and I still don't know what to say. I've been very busy and I was out of the country for almost a month, but the main reason why I stopped writing is that recently, my personal life has been straight out of a cliché Korean drama and it's been a painful experience. I'll spare you the details (a previous version of this turned into a rant) and just say that I'm sorry for taking so long.

Anyway, it's not very easy to write about romance when you're living your own drama, but it does make me even more motivated to give Chu Qiao and Yuwen Yue the story they deserve. This is set during Episodes 33-39 (up to the wedding day) and I apologize if some of you guys are surprised at the big time jumps and what I end up skipping. Like I said before, I've never written something like this where it's not a regular story format _and_ where I have to be careful not to just repeat scenes from the drama, but still find some creative freedom for scenes running parallel to the show's timeline. I'm honestly not sure I like what I'm doing but it's too late to change, so hopefully you guys do like it?

By the way, I really recommend the full Princess Agents OST. I fell in love with all the lovely instrumentals, especially the Qing Shan Yuan theme and the "Secret Heart" one. You can find them over at the C-drama fansite A Virtual Voyage.

* * *

 **The Red Thread of Fate**

* * *

The statement of freedom was in her hand and Chu Qiao should have been smiling with relief that it was all over, but instead, her stomach churned and her chest felt tight, as if she couldn't get enough air. She knew Yan Xun was waiting for her, no doubt worrying about what Yuwen Yue might have made her do over the span of the day, but her footsteps slowed rather than quickened once she was beyond the outer perimeter of Qing Shan Yuan.

Instead of returning straight to the Oriole Courtyard, she stopped for a moment in the darkness of an alleyway, trying to settle herself. Though the document officially made her slave status a thing of the past, it had been years since she had even thought of herself as a slave or really suffered as one anyway. Yuwen Yue giving up any claim he had over her was a good thing—and the truth was, he never really had any claim over her in the first place that she was willing to acknowledge.

So why did she vaguely feel as though she had wronged him? And even worse, as if she owed him something?

Her eyes prickled and she blinked, trying to chase the feeling away. To her horror, she felt something warm and wet slide down her face. Chu Qiao touched her cheeks and her fingers came away wet. She bit her lip as she looked at her own hand disbelievingly. She had nothing to cry over—in fact she hadn't shed a tear in years. Not since that day she had woken up not dead but believing that Yuwen Yue had meant to kill her out of spite.

She wiped away the moistness with a few swipes and then angrily started her return to the Oriole Courtyard again. It was just the stress of the long day that had squeezed a few tears out of her, that was all. Being back within the walls of Qing Shan Yuan, spending hours with _him_ doing all the things she used to, it had just brought back too many bad memories. When Yuwen Yue had finally told her the truth about her brother's death, she hadn't felt relieved, only…cheated, somehow, out of her anger at him. In the last three years, she had gotten so used to thinking of Yuwen Yue as the progenitor of all her problems.

There was plenty to hate him for. He belonged to the very same family who had brought so much suffering to her own. More than that, Yan Xun's pain was his fault too—and if a part of her knew she was being a little unfair on this point, the other part reminded her that he had known about the Emperor's plans and had presided on that terrible day besides Yuwen Huai. He could have done more. He could have done _something_ , at least.

 _You overestimate my power_ , he had told her once, and she cursed herself for remembering every one of their interactions so vividly that it was like he was here to rebut even her thoughts. At that time, she had heard it as another of his mocking insults, pointing out her lack of knowledge on the ranking hierarchy of the nobles. But since then she had come to hear those words as genuinely laced with regret. These days, she marveled that she had truly once been so naïve to believe that he was powerful enough to stop the likes of his uncle, his grandfather, or even the Emperor himself. How easily he had impressed her, how readily she had committed herself to the Eyes of God for him.

Chu Qiao took a steadying breath. Why was she thinking about all this again? She was losing it. Yan Xun's plans to return to Yanbei and their fast approaching three year deadline were what she needed to focus on, now more than ever. It did not matter that Yue Qi had blurted out a confession about what had happened the day of her death, a story that his master was obviously too proud to tell her himself. Yet part of her was glad to finally hear it and know that it matched what Zhong Yu had suggested all those years ago. Yue Qi probably had the best of intentions, but he couldn't have understood that his words had poked a spot that was still tender even now.

But all these things were best left in the past, as was the moment that had happened only a few hours ago—that moment when Yuwen Yue had looked at her with such a heavy gaze, his eyes full of unsaid things that she didn't know if she ever wanted to hear. Of all the people in the world, only he could do this to her.

She had firmly closed the doors on a whole chapter of her life tonight and had walked out of Qing Shan Yuan as his equal.

So why did it feel like she was still tied to him?

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

There was a nervous energy in the Xiuli unit's camp at night, as if something had upset the usual balance. Some of it was still left over from the ongoing tensions of a week ago, when Chu Qiao had arrived just in time to save He Xiao from being sentenced to execution, but the rest of it was due to her presence. Men gave her sidelong looks, pointed her out to their comrades, and voices noticeably quieted or cut off abruptly wherever she passed through, making it obvious who had been the subject of their gossip.

There was a lot of speculation on why she had ended up in the army at all. The truth was, she didn't even know herself. Though the Emperor had ostensibly been rewarding her display of skill during the contest with the horrid Zhama princess, both she and Zhong Yu agreed that his ulterior motive was likely to force Chu Qiao from Yan Xun's side. No matter, though—it was an excellent opportunity for her to learn more about the very same army that would be dispatched to stop Yan Xun's escape from Chang'an.

In any case, she was used to that kind of scrutiny. Life at Qing Shan Yuan had been similar, except then she had drawn the hostile, jealous stares of everyone from the kitchen cooks to the laundry maids. No one had ever thought a lowly iron bell maid could rise to become so favored by the master of the house.

Even so, whenever night fell, she was always made more aware of the fact that even if she could win their trust and authority, she would never fit in seamlessly with the Xiulis. Chu Qiao was sure she didn't show it, but being the lone female soldier in camp was undeniably still an intimidating position to be in, no matter how confident she was in herself. Now, as she walked through areas where soldiers had set up campfires and laid out bedrolls, part of her hoped that she wouldn't be confronted again as she had been every night so far. It turned out to be a very short-lived hope.

"Look at the little lady, strolling around camp as if she has a real place here," a voice jeered, the soldier loud enough for several to overheard. There were at least ten around the fire. "Maybe I should invite her to come rest her pretty heels in my bedroll. I'll show her _my_ arrow—"

"Shut up!" a different man hissed when Chu Qiao stopped walking, but the rest all stayed silent and waited to see how, or if, she would react. They didn't know her well enough yet to realize she wasn't the type to avoid conflict by pretending not to hear.

A little voice in the back of her mind told her that it might be wise not to take on so many fights like this. She couldn't be sure that his fellow soldiers wouldn't join in, that with enough numbers they could overpower her. A small part of her would always remember how helpless she had once been in the face of danger, the sheer terror she had felt during the hunting game with wolves that she had barely survived.

She wrinkled her nose as she came closer to them, smelling the reek of strong wine. While drinking wasn't forbidden in the Xiuli army, drinking excessively was bad conduct that could be punished. She would have to suggest to He Xiao that he needed to discipline his men more. Those of the Xiuli Army may have had more sorrows to drink away than most, but it was still no excuse.

Chu Qiao stepped directly in front of the soldier who had spoken up, her voice firm but dispassionate. "Are you trying to pick a fight with your superior?"

"Uh…n-no?" The soldier, expecting to be confronted about the insults, looked at her blearily, thrown off by her words and demeanor. He was heavyset verging on pudgy, but he was huge. Even sitting on a rock, the top of his head came up to the bottom of her chin. He considered for a heartbeat and then… "But it's not like you could win."

It was muttered under his breath, but with it, her patience evaporated. With just three lightning fast moves, Chu Qiao left the man rolling on the ground, curled up like a snail. For a moment, it seemed like his friends might join in, but Chu Qiao's fearless, glowering expression dissuaded them.

She spoke over his whimpers. "You will _not_ dishonor your fellow soldiers by your drunken, boorish behavior. If any of you still have doubts as to my abilities and my positionhere, I will be happy to remind you as frequently as needed."

A chorus of muttered apologies came from the men gathered around them and she made sure to take the time to look each in the eyes, committing their faces to memory. If she had indeed been the defenseless woman that they had expected her to be, all this might have ended very differently. Her anger made her want to punish them for it, but she needed to win them to her side, not antagonize them further. She couldn't afford to be too lenient nor too harsh.

She looked down at the man by her feet. "I expect you to do double of every training exercise for this week while you reflect on the proper respect that should be shown to your superiors."

"And put yourself on two weeks of latrine duty for excessive drinking," a commanding voice called out coldly from behind her, and as a whole, all the soldiers cringed. Their instant submission would have been funny if it hadn't made her even more furious. She understood all too well that earning their respect was an uphill battle and that by virtue of her gender, size, and background, it was one she might never win. But understanding did not make it any easier to accept.

Chu Qiao turned and locked gazes with Yuwen Yue, finding a convenient target for the irritation seething inside of her. She greeted the general with proper form, although he alone must have heard the underlying insincerity of her deference, much in the same way she had once spoken to her Young Master. Dismissing all the soldiers with a glance, she locked her fingers firmly around his forearm and marched off with him. He followed her without complaint, the slightest of smiles on his face.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

At first Chu Qiao was only intent on getting him out of earshot of any of the soldiers, but as they picked their path halfway through the camp and her head cleared, she realized that there was no such space readily available. Her frustration doubled when she also realized that no doubt she had just contributed to a fresh wave of rumors. Without any other choice for privacy, she finally circled back to the area where the superior officers had tents set up. He kept an easy pace beside her even after she released him from her grip.

Yuwen Yue merely raised an eyebrow when she gestured for him to enter her tent, but short of walking with him out into the forest, it was the best she could do. Though small, at least they could talk without being seen and heard. As soon as they were inside, she confronted him.

"Why did you do that? I was already taking care of it!"

"I know." He was as unruffled as ever, though he seemed almost pleased about something. "Why do you think I waited? The men need to learn to respect _your_ authority. They already respect mine."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Then why intervene at all to hand out punishment?"

He looked at her intently. "To show them that your will, in the end, will always be backed up by mine."

Chu Qiao turned away, her anger dissipating into confusion as it somehow always did around him. There was so much history between them and their paths always kept crossing. Not long ago, she had ended up fighting side by side with him again as they protected Liu Shen together from Wei Guan and Wei Shuye's assassination attempt, which itself was fallout from her looting of the imperial mausoleum to fund Yan Xun's plans. In every way, Yuwen Yue seemed to always be mixed up in her business.

"Besides, how could you so boldly confront a dozen men by yourself? I seem to remember telling you to be careful and lay low only a few days ago. The soldiers are mostly good men, but a rough lot," he said to her. "Even with the discipline I enforce, you must be cautious, a concept that apparently no amount of danger can teach you. If anything were to happen to you—"

"I can take care of myself," she cut him off. First he arranged to put her in with the Xiuli men, and then he schemed to have them meet together by giving the men new bows and arrows, all just to deliver a lecture on her safety. Now this… "Are you _worried_ about me, Yuwen Yue?"

"Worried for my men," he retorted after a pause. But when he continued, his tone was soft. "Trouble follows wherever you go. You have suffered loss, but I believe you are still innocent, Xing'er, in some of the ways of men and women."

She opened her mouth to automatically deny his use of that name for her, before the rest of what he was saying caught up to her. Was he actually questioning her? Had he made a statement heavy with implications just to see if she would deny it? Her mind whirled with thoughts, the conversation suddenly taking a turn she was not ready for.

"I am not a child, Yuwen Yue. Did you hit your head and forget that you once told me that your bedchamber maid would serve you in bed?" Chu Qiao was proud of the way that she uttered the question so evenly, without a hint of embarrassment.

"So you remember." The way he was looking at her made the space between them seem charged. "Being in an army like this, knowing that some men can only see you as a woman, doesn't it ever frighten you?"

"That men desire women is hardly a revelation." Chu Qiao meant for her statement to sound disdainful, but instead, the words seemed almost suggestive. She bit her lip, wishing she could take it back, and his eyes dipped to look at her mouth.

Yuwen Yue stepped forward closer to her as if pulled by some unseen force, his gaze lingering on her face, her hair. She could see his pulse fluttering in the strong lines of his throat and could feel the heat from his body. Her own heart sped as he leaned in so close they were almost touching. His voice was a low, silky murmur in her ear. "Is that what Yan Xun has been teaching you?"

The jealousy so evident in his words took her breath away. She dared to look up at him and what reply she had been trying to prepare was erased. Slowly she raised her hand and put it on his chest, over his heart. She meant to push him away, to put some more space between them so she could breathe, _think_ , but his own hand quickly covered hers and held it there even as he looked at her.

"That has nothing to do with you," she said. His fingers tightened on hers before letting go. He let his hand drop away, though they still stood so close they were almost touching. His heart beat fast and strong beneath her hand, at odds with his motionless body.

"Do you truly believe that?" he asked. "You and I are connected. Tied by fate."

Chu Qiao looked at her hand on his chest rather than at him, something twisting in her heart at his simple statement. She could easily bicker with him all day and night. She knew exactly how to respond to his mocking insults and pretentious orders, but this was something different.

"Yuwen Yue…" She finally drew her hand away and tried to scoff at him, but she knew the myth he hinted at, as did every child: the red thread of fate, which bound together lovers. "Who would have guessed that you are so sentimental?"

He laughed then, breaking the moment between them, and stepped back with an air of nonchalance that she envied. "I didn't say it was a good thing. Be careful, Xing'er. You think you know Yan Xun, but he isn't the man you think he is. Don't get in over your head."

With that, Yuwen Yue excused himself, leaving her tent with the same suddenness with which he had appeared earlier. Chu Qiao was left with a dozen barbed retorts that she only thought of now that it was too late, and a strange feeling of relief, as if she had narrowly escaped a dangerous encounter, mixed with disappointment.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

The tension within the great city of Chang'an was that of a thousand arrows waiting to be released—or perhaps that was only his imagination. Yuwen Yue was not usually predisposed to feeling sorry for himself, but he would have happily cursed the gods now for always allowing him to see clearly what was coming, all the while lacking the ability to stop it.

Just as he had once known that the Wei emperor's paranoia would drive him to move against Yan Xun's family, so did he now know that Yan Xun had no intention of merely escaping the city and going home to Yanbei. The problem was, Yuwen Yue could not simply go to the Wei emperor to get the authority he needed to stop it. Just as he had been unable to warn Yan Xun all those years ago, lest he risk the lives of all his people in Qing Shan Yuan and doom everyone connected to his family as traitors, now he was equally unable to save the civilians of Chang'an without condemning Yan Xun and Chu Qiao to death.

Every time he tried to solve this problem in his own way, it only got worse and involved even more innocent people. Though he and Xiao Ce had merely come to an agreement to mutually use each other, Yuwen Yue had been satisfied with what he had gotten out of it. He had managed to destroy nearly all the Da Liang spies and thus foiled Yan Xun's plans…or so he had thought.

There were simply too many pieces on the chessboard that were out of his control. He hadn't correctly guessed that the Emperor would be willing to use his own daughter as bait, and of course Chun'er had always been so infatuated with Yan Xun that the silly girl thought her marriage was going to be her dream come true. Worse than that, though he had warned Chu Qiao over and over again that Yan Xun was a changed man, even he himself hadn't really believed just what Yan Xun was willing to do in the name of revenge. But the evidence from his spies' reports could not be mistaken. Zhong Yu had infiltrated too many places with her men and when the full picture had become clear, Yuwen Yue had realized he was looking at a massacre.

Thousands of innocent civilians in Chang'an would be killed. Yan Xun had admitted as much when Yuwen Yue had confronted him—but the one thing he had still been sure of was that Chu Qiao wouldn't have supported such bloodshed. If nothing else, Yan Xun's nonreply to his pointed question had reassured him of that.

Except then Yue Qi had brought yet another report to him, right there in front of Chu Qiao, and only then had Yuwen Yue had understood that he had been played. The whole mess with the Xiuli army, He Xiao's near execution, and suspiciously well-timed message informing him that Chu Qiao was in danger…it was all a complete set up from Zhong Yu. For whatever reason, she had guessed that he would protect Chu Qiao and used that knowledge against him. He had arrived just in time to see her lying there in a crumpled heap, looking pale as death, and he hadn't stopped to think of what was really going on or what it would look like, he'd just taken her out of the situation immediately.

Yuwen Yue had played his part _exactly_ as Zhong Yu had planned and while his pride was badly hurt, it was everything else that hurt more.

After spending an entire night with Chu Qiao lying right next to him, recovering from her ordeal, he hadn't even been able to stay for a moment longer in the same room with her after hearing Yue Qi's report. She had known all along what Yan Xun was doing. Even her latest interference with the commander's attempt to execute He Xiao—had she really been used by Yan Xun and Zhong Yu to gain the support of the Xiuli men? Or had she been aware of all their plans all along?

He wanted to believe that she didn't know. That she believed Yan Xun was just making his escape, not carving out a path of destruction. That she didn't know about the massive casualties that were sure to come because of what they planned.

Yet all the signs indicated that she was involved up to her neck and not only fully aware of _all_ of Yan Xun's plans, but quite supportive of them.

Her loyalty to him blinded her to the truth: Yan Xun was willing to go to any lengths to take what he saw as his rightful vengeance, no matter who got hurt. The events of Jiuyiu Tai had created a monster who would wipe out all of Chang'an without remorse, all because he couldn't reach his real target, the Emperor.

Although Prince Xiang had spoken to him of the need to stop Yan Xun, even going so far as to suggest assassinating him, Yuwen Yue had disagreed. How could he not, when he had seen with his own eyes exactly what Yan Xun had suffered that day, when he had covered the brutalized body of Yan Xun's pregnant sister himself, all those years ago? He had hoped that the Yan Xun he had known had not changed so very much. He would have let Yan Xun simply leave, maybe even smoothed the way, for both his and Chu Qiao's sake.

But Prince Xiang had seen Yan Xun more clearly than himself. Perhaps he had been blinded by his feelings of guilt just as much as Chu Qiao was blinded by her friendship and devotion.

Though he had expected the palace to be bustling with activity in preparations for the wedding tomorrow, it was quiet when he stepped outside of his rooms. Yuwen Yue breathed in the cold air. Tomorrow, everything would change. Though his heart was heavy for so many reasons, in the end, his thoughts always circled back to one person.

It _was_ a piece of romantic nonsense, the legend of the red thread of fate. As it was told in myths, the thread could stretch and become tangled, but it would never break. No matter what time or circumstances separated the lovers, they would find their way back to one another. It was simple destiny.

A few years ago he would never have dreamed of such fanciful thoughts, yet he had spent years thinking he had lost Xing'er forever, and even worse, had as good as killed her. It still often seemed like a miracle that she was alive. He had told Prince Xiang that he didn't mind that she was with Yan Xun. He had claimed that he was content to watch her thrive, even if she was a flower in someone else's garden.

It seemed he was so very wrong about so many things.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : So, finally we get to Yan Xun's rebellion. One thing first, though. One reason PA was difficult for me to watch was Chu Qiao's incredible obliviousness to everything that Yuwen Yue does for her. That is to say, even when she realizes that he's helping her (like putting her in the Xiuli Army), she never seems to think of why. My take on it is that for the most part, Chu Qiao is genuinely kind of confused about emotions and relationships, so she tends to ignore them in favor of singlemindedly working toward her goals. Now, this is a change from the book where she was in love with Yan Xun, but I think it actually makes her character make more sense in the drama, at least up to a point.

You see this most when Yan Xun gets engaged to Chun'er and everyone assumes she's upset, but she doesn't react the way they expect. Yuan Song has an insightful conversation with her where she tells him that she follows Yan Xun because they are alike. He also asks if she likes anyone. Her response: what is it like to like someone?

To me, that kind of says it all. Chu Qiao is partly in denial of her own feelings, but also to some degree just unaware of them too. She must realize to some extent that she's attracted to Yuwen Yue and also that Yan Xun has feelings for her that she could reciprocate, but she doesn't know how to deal with either. The problem with PA is that this stage goes on for _way_ too long to be reasonable, right up to the Icy Lake scene, which kills any hope of character development and makes her look increasingly stupid in the later episodes of the drama. So while the major events will stay the same, _my_ version of the events leading up to the end of PA (that we got) will have some considerable changes – both in terms of the romance and for reincorporating the storyline about Chu Qiao's secret identity and power – and right now I'm still planning to write beyond that. It might be an actual long story like a second season, or maybe just a much better ending where things are actually wrapped up, I haven't decided yet.

 **Anyway, I'll be writing and updating consistently again, and at the very least I promise not to disappear without letting everyone know what's going on and what to expect. Please review and let me know what you think**!


	7. In Defiance

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

December 8, 2017

 **Huge Author's Note** : The title for this part of course refers to Yan Xun rebelling against the Emperor, but it also refers to how Chu Qiao defies his orders and goes back to save the Xiuli soldiers, and how Yuwen Yue rejects the role laid out for him by his grandfather. Big turning points for all! This covers episodes 40-43, where He Xiao was awesome and I had my favorite Chu Qiao scene of the entire drama. If only we'd seen more of _that_ independent, badass Chu Qiao in the next 16 episodes! But no, her character flopped straight back into hypocrisy when she lectured the Yan Xun's soldiers for what they did wrong, i.e. their revenge on Chun'er and Yuan Song. It's like she just forgot that Yan Xun just had a whole bunch of people raped and killed that were _also_ not the actual same people who killed Yanbei civilians three years ago. By the same logic that she ordered them beheaded, she should've split from Yan Xun right then and there! Or maybe it's ok just as long as the victims don't happen to be her personal friends. Plus, though the Wei state is corrupt and the Emperor is weak, the tribes of Yanbei weren't actually any better. Maybe in the novel this was all different, but this is where I almost stopped watching PA :/

Anyway, I refer to this saying at one point, 可怜之人必有可恨之处. The meaning is tricky to translate but roughly: the pitiful person must have something to be despised for. Or put another way, the feeling of pity is also a kind of hatred, when they've brought it on themselves. I've always felt that Yuan Chun (Chun'er)'s character can be summed up as such. You feel bad for her but you also hate her for being so coddled and really, TSTL.

I forgot to credit this all the way back in Part 2, but when Yuwen Yue says "The strong do what they want and the weak suffer as they must," this is actually a famous quote from Thucydides. He was a Greek (Athenian) general famous for writing a history of the Peloponnesian War. I studied political science and international relations, so I have a certain fondness for analyzing the politics depicted in PA. In fact, the whole plot is based off a Thucydides Trap: a rising power causes fear in an established power, which then escalates toward war. Thucydides wrote about how the growth of Athenian power caused Sparta to fear it, inevitably leading to war. That should sound familiar!

* * *

 **In Defiance**

* * *

Most of Chang'an was burning. The dead were everywhere, but it was the living that made the city into a place of nightmares. The injured begged for help, a nonstop chorus of desperation in the background, punctuated only by the other sounds of the chaos: a woman's shriek piercing through the air before abruptly cutting off, children wailing somewhere, unseen but heard, voices rising in anger, victory, pain, and terror. Almost every street was engulfed in flames, with clouds of smoke adding to the confusion—they were fires that she had helped plan, meticulously plotting out each location.

After years of relative isolation and solitude in the Oriole Courtyard, it was almost all too much to take in. Chu Qiao knew she couldn't truly help them. Fending off one or two rapists or killing someone taking advantage of the lawlessness to commit robbery would not make a difference in the end. Zhong Yu had reminded her several times in the last few days that this was no different from what the people of Yanbei suffered, as if sensing her unease.

Chu Qiao had in turn resented the undercurrent of patronization in Zhong Yu's frequent reminders, as if she and Yan Xun doubted her commitment to the cause. Even Yuwen Yue had told her over and over again that she would come to regret this, even going so far as to imply that she didn't fully understand what she was doing. But she _did_ understand. She might cry over the injustice of the civilians harmed by the rebellion, but she would never doubt Yan Xun's right to declare war against the Wei state.

She was not like Chun'er, still on her knees before Yan Xun right now, her wedding finery in disarray as she sobbed, hopelessly naïve and unable to comprehend reality. Nor was she like Yuan Song, blindly parroting the lies and justifications of the Emperor, his devotion to his father so strong that though he could tell his sister that Yan Xun was claiming his revenge, he still refused to acknowledge that the revenge was just.

Yan Xun turned his horse away from the shameful scene, the princess still calling after him. Chu Qiao followed on her own mount. Never had she truly understood the phrase _to pity is also to hate_. Alhough she felt sorry for Chun'er and pitied her for being a princess brought so low, she couldn't help but also despise her a little for having brought it all on herself. It wasn't that Chun'er deserved any of the misfortune that had befallen her, but as a princess, she had been so entitled to an easy life, nothing had penetrated through her lack of awareness. Not even after the events of Jiuyou Tai and the execution of the entire Yan clan had she changed.

But perhaps Chu Qiao was simply judging her too harshly because her own life had been so different. Yan Xun had once been almost just as entitled, just as removed from the suffering experienced by so many. After all, he had been one of the princes invited to play the hunting "game" that had had killed dozens of other girls. It wasn't as if he had tried hard to stop Yuwen Huai, and neither had Yuan Song. Sometimes she forgot that Yan Xun and Yuan Chun were from the same world, one where birthright and rank gave them all the power.

Disturbed by the dark turn of her thoughts, Chu Qiao saw with relief that He Xiao was leading a group of soldiers to approach them. She urged her horse to draw abreast of Yan Xun and listened to the grim report. Things were still going according to plan but they were almost out of time.

Yan Xun turned to her. "A Chu, get out of the city first. Go defend the bridge and arrange for the river crossing."

"What about you?" She wasn't oblivious. She knew there were some things that Zhong Yu and Yan Xun hadn't told her, but she hadn't pushed hard to find out what else they planned, either.

"I have some other things to do first, but I'll meet you soon." Yan Xun didn't meet her gaze, but what she saw in his eyes was ruthless, akin to an executioner's blank expression.

"I'll wait for you," she promised, and turned to go.

As she rode, she thought for the first time of _why_ this was all possible, not just why it was necessary. The very system that gave the Emperor so much power, the same hierarchy and inheritance that allowed one man to commit so many atrocities, was the same one that made Yan Xun a prince. His lineage, his bloodline, his title gave him the right to rule, the right to demand that his people follow him to the point of death. Some of the men fighting for them today might die in his name without ever having seen him.

She had accused Yuwen Yue of blind loyalty to a corrupt government and Emperor; he had replied that his loyalty was to the Wei. Well, she had chosen to give her loyalty to Yan Xun, to Yanbei. But it made her heart uneasy to realize that fundamentally the thing that made him prince, that let him inspire so many to rebel with him, was the same thing that held the Wei together. The only difference was that she believed in Yan Xun—believed that he could be a great leader, could rebuild Yanbei into the place he had once so lovingly described for her.

But as she guided her horse through streets and saw the casualties and collateral damage of their rebellion, she had to wonder: was this really the only way? Was this even the right way? Yet she had no choice but to push aside her reservations; this was not the time to falter. Yan Xun was depending on her. Chu Qiao urged her horse to a faster gallop, the map of her route to the bridge clear in her mind.

"STOP!" The shout coming from in front of her was so loud that her horse startled and she was almost thrown even as she turned into a different alleyway. Chu Qiao frantically got her mount back under control even as she tried to understand the scene in front of her.

A man in ragged clothing was holding a wailing young boy by the arm and two imperial soldiers in full armor were advancing on them. It was unclear who had shouted and with only a moment to decide what to do, Chu Qiao urged her horse toward the soldiers.

"LET HIM GO!" one soldier shouted at the man, before lunging toward him.

The other soldier noticed Chu Qiao bearing down on him too late and tried to move to the side, but not before he made contact with the side of her horse and her leg. The impact jolted through them both and her horse reared even as the soldier fell. He hit his head hard and her skittish horse trampled his leg, bones breaking with distinctive cracks.

By the time she had the horse under control again and looked back at the confrontation, the boy was suddenly but unmistakably dead, his throat slit nearly ear-to-ear in a gruesome red smile. He lay on the filthy street in a heap, blood everywhere.

Chu Qiao let out a cry and turned her rage on the first soldier who was now fighting the man. She dismounted and tackled him. They both fell hard to the cobblestones, the soldier shoving her off him and flat onto her back, his expression wild. It was only then that she turned her head and noticed the bloodied knife clutched in the other man's hand as he fled.

"What did you do?" the soldier cried in disbelief and fury. "You just let him kill that boy!"

Their fall had disarmed him. His sword lay on the cobblestones, the metal gleaming—free of blood. Chu Qiao stared at it, and then at him. "What?"

"He's an escaped prisoner," the soldier shouted at her. Now that she was looking at him, he appeared not much older than her. "I'm a prison guard, you idiot! Someone broke all the prisoners free an hour ago. This one grabbed the boy as a hostage when we caught up to him. He was supposed to be executed tomorrow for murdering his wife and now he's killed a boy and _you just let him go free!"_

He was so angry that his words came out nearly incoherent, but Chu Qiao understood them all too well. The boy lay silent nearby, the other soldier that she had knocked out just as silent. Her head whirled at the scene in front of her, unable to take in everything at once—the fresh, bright red blood still spreading in a pool around the small body. How could she have misread things so badly? Her powers of observation were phenomenal, as was her memory, and she had been trained to take in even the smallest of details. How could she have been so blinded by her ingrained hatred of the imperial guards that she had assumed, contrary to the evidence before her eyes, that they were the wrongful aggressors?

There was nothing she could do, nothing to make it right. There was no time. She could not even choke out an apology to the guard, or his unconscious partner, or the boy—not that any words could have helped. They were all nameless strangers and yet somehow their lives had collided in this dirty alleyway. She had intervened with good intentions but it had gone so very wrong. Was the boy's family nearby, looking for him? He couldn't have been more than six.

Chu Qiao didn't know what she would have done if the guard had tried to arrest her, but he had gone to kneel beside his unconscious comrade, trying to awaken him. He looked as shaken as she was and clearly didn't even connect her to the rebellion—if he even knew there was one taking place. His head came up briefly, his gaze meeting hers across the body of the dead boy and all the blood, his deep brown eyes eyes shiny with furious tears.

She clenched her hands at her sides, feeling utterly helpless. The murderer was long gone.

With a sinking feeling, she replayed the guard's words in her head. _Someone broke all the prisoners free an hour ago_. What better way to quickly add to the confusion and turmoil in the city? She had been so complacent in letting Zhong Yu and Yan Xun make most of the plans, even when they gently cut her out of some of the decision-making. She had justified it to herself by thinking that theyhad the right to do so as she wasn't even from Yanbei.

Two more guards turned the corner and ran into the alleyway, spurring her back into action. Tears blurred her vision as Chu Qiao heaved herself onto the horse, swinging her leg over the saddle. She felt nauseated, as if her disgust with herself penetrated all the way down into her wretched bones.

But she had helped start this and she would be there to finish it. Once everyone was out of the city safely and had crossed the bridge, then she could think again. There were still a lot of lives at stake. She could not afford to be slowed down by doubts right now.

After all, she had once begged Yan Xun to live. In those dark hours after Jiuyou Tai, she had whispered feverishly to him, telling him not to give up, to live in order to avenge his family, his people, his homeland. She knew what it was like to reach the lowest points of one's life and still find that there was still more to suffer. She remembered staying alive only through sheer strength of will and a burning hatred of everyone who had brought her so low.

Yan Xun had sworn to carry out his vengeance and she had sworn to help him every step of the way. They were the same kind of people. They were survivors.

This is not stubbornness, she reminded herself. This was resolution.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

"I investigated what happened three years ago. In return for the protection you gave me three years ago, for the sake of that debt, I will let these students go." There was no feeling in Yan Xun's voice, nor any in his expression. His eyes were stony and cold when he stared his opponent down. "Yuwen Yue, when we meet again in the future, we will be enemies."

Without another word, Yan Xun rode away with his men, the soldiers neatly falling in behind him to follow as he made his escape from Chang'an. He looked every inch the wolf-like barbarian prince, as if he wanted the lords of Chang'an to see him and know: _this is what you feared I would be, so this is what you made me become_. The bloody massacre that might have been was averted, just like that.

He might have protected the students with words rather than weapons, but Yuwen Yue still knew that the reality was that he had lost. Or rather, they had _both_ lost, and Yan Xun most badly of all, for he had lost himself.

The nostalgic part of him that was still thought of himself as Yue'er, the part that cherished his memories of Yan Xun as a friend, an ally, and brother, had still hoped that this day wouldn't come.

In retrospect, it was inevitable, the last step in a chain of events that had been started ever since the Emperor of Wei declared Duke Yan Shicheng a traitor, executed the entire Yan clan, but spared Yan Xun. But even as Yuwen Yue watched the Yanbei prince depart, he mourned not the loss of their friendship, the final line drawn in the sand, but the loss of his friend. For the boy and the man that he had known as Yan Xun would never have contemplated killing children, whether they were the descendants of the ruling nobility or not. He would never have planned to murder defenseless students, even if they were to become the future generals and leaders of Wei.

Out of everything Yuwen Yue had found out about Yan Xun, this was the one thing that convinced him that his former friend was truly beyond redemption. Prince Xiang had been right to plan on assassinating him, he thought bleakly. He could sympathize with Yan Xun's other plans to some extent. As for the plan to flood the city or to kill thousands of innocent people, he could at least understand Yan Xun's logic, even if he disagreed with its basis in hate: an eye for an eye, a thousand deaths of Wei citizens to pay for a thousand deaths of his Yanbei people.

Yet Yan Xun had said candidly that he bore no hate toward the students or their old school, it was merely the practical decision of a rising prince intent on consolidating his power and position. It was no different than when a crown prince ascended to the imperial throne and then executed every one of his royal half-siblings, down to the last baby, to prevent any future challenges.

Once, the two of them had studied these political histories side by side, just schoolboys debating the topic for their assignments. Back then, it had been Yue'er who had argued for preemptive attacks, and Yan Xun against.

 _What use is gathering intelligence if one does not act on it?_ Yue'er had argued.

 _By what heavenly right does one decide to punish before the crime is committed?_ the prince had retorted. _And what if the spies are wrong?_

Now Yuwen Yue wondered if Yan Xun still remembered, too. Before he turned to leave, he looked once more at the academy. "Would you have done it with your own hand, Yan Xun? Or would you have ordered your men to do it?"

There was no one to answer him, no one to tell him if the prince would have looked into the faces of the students, some no more than six years old, and ended their lives. To be willing kill an entire school of children in cold blood merely for their _potential_ to become a threat to him… That went beyond revenge and into madness. It was the particular madness of rulers, Yuwen Yue thought, that was in the end no different at all that the fear that drove the Wei Emperor to brutally exterminate the Yan clan.

Fear made monsters of men, which in turn left monsters who could only fear men.

Yan Xun had learned the lessons too well.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

"A CHU! A CHU!"

Her name rang in the air, both Zhong Yu and Yan Xun calling after her, trying to stop her. Blood pounded in her ears, so loudly that her own cries urging her horse on and its drumming hoofbeats on the burning bridge seemed faint in comparison.

How _could_ he? How could he abandon them?

She could not leave them to die. The Xiuli troops were men she had brought to Yan Xun because she had recognized in them her own bitter hopelessness: they were men without a country to call home, men without family, men who had drawn the worst fates and who no longer had anything to live for.

Her ride back to Chang'an passed in a blur of roiling emotion, even as Chu Qiao tried to keep a clear head. She would be no use to the Xiuli troup if she came back just to join them in death. It was all a misunderstanding. She had thought that she was bringing them home to Yanbei. He Xiao and his men had made mistakes that had cost lives, but hadn't they all? And though the Yanbei prince might not trust them, she had hoped that he would at least trust in her judgment of them. But to Yan Xun, as he had just made so clear to her, they were only traitors who deserved to be used and then left behind as their punishment.

Still, she wouldn't leave without them. They shouldn't pay with their lives for the misunderstanding between herself and Yan Xun. The East Gate loomed ahead of her in the distance, blurry through the sheen of tears in her eyes.

It wasn't until she reached the massive doors that she felt something fissure within her. What had started as a small crack in her self-confidence now continued to tear and rend through her, showing the unexpected fragility of her unwavering belief in her own abilities to achieve the things she envisioned. The reality was in front of her.

The gates were bound shut with rope, deliberately sealed with hundreds of knotted reinforcements. Understanding hit her in the same way that the boy's death had, horror followed instantly by a numb disbelief as she realized the truth of what she had saw.

Yan Xun hadn't just left them behind. He had ordered them sealed on the other side. Now, in that instant, she knew why he had commanded the archers to burn the bridge for the river crossing. He had known that they were not just late; he had known no one would be coming—because he had condemned them all to death.

And it had in no way been necessary.

Her cry of fury was lost in the roar that came from the other side, the muffled sound that she instinctively knew was the sound of brothers-in-arms taking one last stand, preparing to die together.

Chu Qiao attacked the ropes as if possessed, knowing that He Xiao's men must have tried to open the gates before realizing, too, that they had been betrayed. Each binding that she slashed apart with her sword was like a cut of uncertainty into her own frozen heart. How could he? How could he accept them, watch them pledge their lives to him, and do this?

When the gate finally opened and she rode through to the other side, she swore a vow that she would lead them home or die trying.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Everyone in Qing Shan Yuan knew that Yuwen Yue was soon departing with Prince Xiang to go fight the rebel prince of Yanbei. The household staff was in a frenzy over the gossip, with half the maids wistfully recalling the charming young prince that had been a former frequent visitor, and the other half whispering horror stories of the wolfish demon whose uprising, on his wedding day no less, had left so many dead in Chang'an. Fortunately not many had the knowledge to connect the presumed dead slave, Xing'er, to the now infamous Chu Qiao.

In all his years serving the Yuwen household, Yue Qi had come to understand something about Young Master Yue's meetings with his revered grandfather, Yuwen Zhuo. It was a simple but reliable observation: the shorter the meeting time, the better the outcome—for his young master, of course.

By that unusual measure, this was one of Yuwen Yue's greatest triumphs against the patriarch of his house. Even Yue Qi had a hard time keeping a neutral expression as he stood guard just outside the chamber doors, still close enough for his spy-trained ears to hear every one of Yuwen Yue's pointed words. His meaning was clear. Whether or not Chu Qiao was another man's woman, whether or not she was on the wrong side of the war, whether or not she would ever appreciate his protection of her—none of that mattered, in the end. Yuwen Yue was not ever going to watch her die again.

The latest argument wasn't surprising; their last meeting had ended with the Young Master unequivocally denouncing the neglect of his father, Yuwen Lie, who had abandoned all duty to his family in chasing his ambition.

The tension even from the doorway was strong enough to give Yue Qi secondhand anxiety. When the young master came striding toward him, demeanor coldly uncompromising despite his calm expression, Yue Qi opened the door and smoothly fell into step behind him. They walked together to the study, which was mostly bare these days due to the frequent absences of its owner.

"You heard everything." It was more of a statement than a question, but it surprised Yue Qi so much that he almost walked straight into Yuwen Yue, who had stopped and turned to face him. "What do you think, Yue Qi?"

Yuwen Yue had never been a man of many words. While Yue Qi felt that he knew his master much better than most and considered him a friend despite the social gap between them, they weren't in the habit of discussing women. In fact, the only times Yue Qi could ever think of them doing so was when Yuwen Huai would send over girls, hoping to entice his cousin into letting down his guard. In fact, they had exchanged perhaps all of ten words on the subject of Chu Qiao's death all those years ago.

He scrambled for something to say, because the question alone told him that Yuwen Yue was in dire need of some words of support. "I think we have to all make our own choices in life for the people we love."

Yuwen Yue was as stoic as ever, but somehow Yue Qi could still sense a faint hint of exasperation. "Don't be diplomatic. Do you think what I'm doing is foolish?"

"No." Yue Qi's judgment was quick and sincere. "I think Xing'er cares for you more than you know, maybe more than even she knows. But even if she didn't, I don't think you would forgive yourself if you let her go like this."

"I would have," came Yuwen Yue's unexpected reply, and that confession seemed to unlock many more. "I thought that if she was alive and safe, content in her own way if not happy, that would be enough. She chose to follow him and no matter how dark his path gets, I don't believe he would hurt her."

"At least not intentionally," Yue Qi murmured, and the other man dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Prince Xiang wanted me to join him as he leads his men against Yan Xun, but Xing'er is missing and there's a price on her head. I won't let her get hunted down like a wild dog."

"What happens after that, when she's returned to Yan Xun? He's declared war against the Wei." That was the crux of the problem and they both knew it.

"I will try to persuade her again," Yuwen Yue said quietly. "What else can I do?"

"I've sworn to follow you wherever you go and to guard your life with my own if need be. But for the sake of your love for Xing'er," Yue Qi hesitated, waiting for a denial that never came, "and to protect her, how far can you go without betraying your own country?"

The Young Master had no answer.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, that ended up more grim than I expected, but I hope you guys liked it. Yue Qi is such a cutie as always :) Anyway, I'm obviously setting up to start making some bigger changes to the story as we get toward the end of PA and beyond. I feel like I've been writing this in every author's note, but things are finally progressing along.

It's occurred to me that it's kind of ridiculous to be writing a fanfic to fix a drama that is based on a novel, which might not need fixing in the first place. So just a quick reminder: my writing is based only off the PA drama, since I've never read the novel. I simply don't have the time to do even more "research" other than rewatching a few episodes and reading recaps. From what I know, Chu Qiao's character is inconsistent in part because the drama took out the time travel component (so she's not a jaded special agent) and added in the part about her being heiress to the Wind Cloud spy clan. Of course that storyline ended up going nowhere, but I plan on making plenty of use out of it.

Next part will have a long more XingYue and some R worthy scenes, I promise :) Thank you all so much for reading and for your kind words! **Please comment and let me know what you think**!


	8. The Secrets Between Us

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

December 26, 2017

 **Author's Note** : The title here was actually inspired by Yuwen Huai's speech right before Chu Qiao's fake death. Yuwen Huai was trying to provoke Yuwen Yue into saving her and accuses them of having "secrets between them that cannot be said," implying that they were lovers. This part covers only Episodes 44 and 45 and well, what can I say, it's shamelessly XingYue all the way. This is my take on those scenes so it doesn't follow the drama exactly, although I've kept a lot of the important dialogue. I wouldn't say there's anything here worthy of an R rating, but it's not a G either. Chinese censorship is the stuff of jokes—like when all that money spent on 260 costumes for Fan Bing Bing went down the drain since the censors forced all cleavage to be cut out, meaning a lot of The Empress of China turned into awkward headshots. I also realized that Chu Qiao's backstory got changed probably because time travel dramas were banned in 2011.

I only wonder how Mark Chao was able to get away with being so amazingly sexy in Three Lives, Three Worlds, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms even in the short scenes they actually showed. If only Lin Geng Xin had taken some notes from his BFF! It still cracks me up that Zhao Li Ying said that she wanted to redo the XingYue kiss scene but he'd already "ran away" from her because he was too embarrassed. (And it's still really weird to me that the same voice actor did both Ye Hua and Yuwen Yue's voices.)

* * *

 **The Secrets Between Us**

* * *

Sometimes there is bad luck, and then sometimes there is such exceptionally bad luck that one can only conclude that it's just fate.

It took Chu Qiao only a few minutes to come to this exact conclusion when she realized two things: first, the dancing girl she had knocked out had been getting ready to serve a man, and second, that man was Yuwen Yue. How could that even be? If she hadn't bowed before him and confirmed his identity with her own senses, she would never have believed such a coincidence could happen. Of course, this just reminded her again of all his nonsense about the red thread bringing together lovers.

What was he even doing here in this city and in this manor specifically, let alone getting _taken care of_ by some slave girl? During her time at Qing Shan Yuan, she had done everything from serving him tea to enlisting in his spy corps, but never once had she seen him with a woman. Yuwen Yue had never once demanded that of her either, although he had heavily implied that she would serve him in bed when he had first chosen her as a bedchamber maid, though as Chu Qiao grew to know him better, she realized he had likely been trying to scare her to see her reaction.

Her annoyance over having her escape thwarted mixed with a strange feeling of unease. As he called her to come to him, all she could think was: _did he know?_ Had he somehow recognized her, even in this unlikeliest of places? On one hand, she wouldn't be surprised if he had recognized her as easily as she had recognized him, even though she had carefully kept her face hidden when she had bowed to him. On the other hand, she could be overthinking things entirely.

Three years had passed, she had changed considerably and he could have as well. Perhaps he did spend all day idling and being served hand and foot by beautiful women now, especially after being away at the warfront. For some reason, the thought of this made her grit her teeth. But Chu Qiao attributed her wrath to the inconvenience of having to play this ridiculous role instead of leaving immediately.

Chu Qiao walked softly on bare feet towards him, debating what she could do. If he was relaxed enough, she could create enough of a distraction to get out before he could stop her. But this was Yuwen Yue after all, the man who sometimes appeared about as emotional as an iceberg. He wasn't the type to relax even when soaking in a hot water bath, no matter how many rose petals were scattered around.

She assessed the opulent furnishings around them with an eye for combat. Of course there was also a lavishly adorned bed nearby. She eyed the sheer drapery, her mind flashing back to a particular memory of hers from a night long ago, when she had watched him in secret and had heard him quite clearly call out in passion—call out _her_ name. For a moment, Chu Qiao imagined the dancing girl in that bed with Yuwen Yue, and she suddenly felt the mean urge to wake up the comatose girl just so she could knock her out again.

But past the bed Yuwen Yue was waiting for her in hazy steam from the bath, barely dressed. She was quiet as she ascended the steps behind him, part of her mind wondering if she should be noisier. She had trained to be utterly silent as a spy, as an assassin. But what would the dancing girl sound like anyway? Would she have sighed coquettishly or swished her dress around her ankles, seducing him with the sound of its sheer layers on bare skin?

Either way, Yuwen Yue showed no reaction. Far too soon, Chu Qiao was gingerly loosening the thin white robe around his throat, exposing far too much smooth, damp skin. Her mouth suddenly dry, Chu Qiao tried to keep a healthy distance between them as she lightly placed her fingers on him just above the hard ridges of his collarbones. Even so, it was like she could feel the heat radiating off his body from where she knelt behind him, or perhaps it was just the curling warm vapors from the water.

She forgot to breath as she tentatively made some massaging motions with her fingers, trying to ignore how thrilling it was to even be touching a man so intimately. He seemed tense, or perhaps it was just that his shoulders were simply this muscular? She applied a little more pressure with her hands and he leaned back into her touch. His eyes were closed and she was behind him anyway, yet she felt a hot blush across her cheeks. There was a drop of water at the curve of his neck, above her fingers, and she suddenly wondered what it would taste like from his skin. Would it match the clean, masculine scent of him?

Brow furrowed over her wandering thoughts, Chu Qiao swiped away the tempting water with a fingertip. The light motion unexpected elicited a shiver from him, but his eyes remained firmly closed and he said nothing. Only the flutter of his pulse in the hollow of his throat gave him away. She leaned closer and reached to touch it without thinking, fascinated by the strength of it beneath her fingers. She heard his breath hitch just a bit as it quickened. She'd forgotten to even continue massaging his shoulders, but he was evidently enjoying her touch quite a bit.

So he was used to being touched like this?

Seized with an irrational annoyance, Chu Qiao decided it was time to end the playacting and reached for the tiny blade she had hidden in her hair. It wasn't like she could actually hurt him with such a toy but as a distraction, it would do.

His swift movement to block her strike was somehow just as expected as it was unexpected. What she hadn't fully taken into account was the water and the way it made her white clothing cling to her skin, nearly transparent. As always, it took only moments before the rhythm of their fighting synchronized and their movements flowed together, attacking and defending with all the grace of an improvised dance from master artists. Even though she had been the aggressor, he quickly became a step ahead of her, leading her from one position into another.

Yuwen Yue's utter lack of surprise told her that of course he had known it was her all along. How dare he let her roleplay as the dancing girl for so long! If she hadn't attacked, just how far would he have taken the act?

He hadn't said a word yet, but there was the tiniest curl of his lips, a certain gleam in his eyes that suggested he was laughing at her. He was so infuriating!

Distracted, she felt him tear away her flimsy outer robe, freeing her from the wet material. But she had only just caught her balance when Yuwen Yue's hand closed on the back of her corset and the thin material tore cleanly off her.

Chu Qiao ran from him and, thinking quickly, grabbed a hanging curtain to wrap around herself. She was flushed with exertion and embarrassment. Had he seen? She could almost feel his gaze hot on her back, not shocked at all, but lingering. Why had he… But of course it hadn't been a mistake; Yuwen Yue didn't make mistakes. Especially when it came to removing clothing from women. So then he had done it on purpose.

Chu Qiao's thoughts flitted in a confused circle even as they continued to fight, but then she realized that he had somehow herded her onto the bed, which only made her even more determined to come out on top. He clearly enjoyed their sparring, though she finally surprised him by returning the favor and tearing off _his_ robe. It was only fair, after all.

But Chu Qiao realized almost immediately that it was a strategic mistake. Facing a half nude Yuwen Yue was overwhelming. His body was muscular and well defined, in top condition as might be expected from fighting male in his prime. It wasn't as though she had never in her life seen other men similarly unclothed, but she had trouble tearing her gaze away.

Flustered, she kicked at his legs to bring him down beside her, only instead of controlling his fall to land beside her on the bed, he...didn't. He let himself fall to his knees, trapping her legs between his, and leaned forward, his arms on either side of her shoulders. She had only a moment to register it all before he leaned even closer and kissed her.

The taste of him was exactly as she had remembered from their one and only kiss at the training grounds in Qing Shan Yuan. But the rest was different. Then, it had been a surprise for both of them, a revelation between them followed by her swift, decisive denial. But this time the kiss felt as natural as breathing, as natural as their sparring, an obvious culmination of their strange dance from the bath to the bed.

It was heat, and desire, and slow combustion. He stopped only to murmur something against her neck that she couldn't catch, and then his lips were on hers again and her hands were slipping over the bare skin of his back, urging him closer. His hard body pressed against hers and he made a sound low in his throat. She understood only too well what it conveyed, the satisfaction of being close and the frustration of still not being close enough. He was heavy and so much bigger than her and—and he was unmistakably aroused.

Her inhibitions melted away and suddenly she was greedy for more. She had never in her life _wanted_ like this. Their gazes met for a long, breathless moment. They hadn't said a single word to each other but whatever Yuwen Yue saw in her eyes made his darken even more. She arched up against him and in response he slid his arm around her, rolling them both in a swift movement so that she ended up on top of him.

Chu Qiao kicked out in reflex, thinking that she was sparring with him again. Something fell to the ground and shattered loudly. The outer doors to their chamber crashed open almost immediately after as both of them froze in position.

Yuwen Yue recovered before she did, throwing a cover over her just as she saw Yue Qi approaching. The poor guard was met with an angry shouted command to get out and by the time Chu Qiao peeled away the cover, she'd come back to her senses. Sudden realization of what exactly Yue Qi had just accidentally interrupted flooded her in the worst way. Yuwen Yue had hastily slipped his robe back on as well, though he'd tied it less securely than normal, so a triangle of bare skin extended down his chest.

 _What_ had they been doing? Her face burned with horrifying embarrassment as they overheard the guards' surprised reactions outside. They sat through the excruciatingly long conversation, although she stole a look at Yuwen Yue when they mentioned his abstinence for several years and how relieved they were that he was finally "getting back to normal." She felt like even her ears were hot with mortification.

He, of course, remained stoic as ever despite his guards' antics and their own compromising actions. In fact, Yuwen Yue didn't even look like he'd just been interrupted from…whatever they were doing. Chu Qiao firmly kept her eyes above his neck.

They sat in bed together and she looked at him, trying to imitate his expression of cool disdain.

"If the top beam is crooked, the lower beams cannot be straight," she said primly, using the proverb to blame him for his guards' vices. It was not much of an insult, but it was the first thing that came to her scrambled mind.

He snorted, looking at her up and down. "You're the one who climbed into in a man's bed. So proper. Such virtuous actions."

It felt like he was heating her with his gaze even as he laid on the sarcasm. Chu Qiao wrapped another layer of sheer curtain around herself like she was gathering the shreds of her dignity, and settled for glaring at him.

"What are you looking at me for?" he said with perfect calm. "You still want more? Come at me again."

She tried kicking him in response and he fended her off before getting up off the bed. Chu Qiao was so relieved that she didn't even think to warn him about the woman that she'd left inside the closet. He muttered about her lack of warning even as he put two and two together, realizing where the beautiful dancing girl promised to him had gone. She thought that would be the end of it but Yuwen Yue was not about to let her off the hook so easily. He was in a mood.

"Such a pity," he said with an exaggerated sigh, leaning against the closet.

"What's such a pity? I ruined your big plans for tonight?" She bit off each question like the words were tart. "Are you reluctant to give her up?"

"Of course. A great beauty is hidden in the closet," Yuwen Yue mused. "Meanwhile, a shrew occupies the bed. Any man would think it's a pity."

"So you _are_ a man?" she retorted quickly. "Then why did I just hear the guards outside say that you haven't touched a woman for years and soon will be a monk?"

He really wouldn't give her the satisfaction of any reaction. It was almost a marvel that he was so thick-faced. Instead, he closed the distance between them with a few steps and leaned in close.

"If you keep trying to provoke me," he said with deliberate slowness, "you can come find out whether I'm a real man."

Chu Qiao nearly choked as he leaned in even closer. She had very much confirmed that fact tonight already. The way he was observing her made her shiver. "Pervert."

He gave her a skeptical look. "You dressed like this to seduce me first. Who's the pervert?"

She couldn't believe her ears. "Who was seducing you?" After all, the only reason why she was dressed in sheer curtains was because _he_ had undressed her piece by piece!

It was far, far past time to go and she turned to leave when he stopped her. They struggled as he wrapped an arm around her from behind. Try as she might, he kept her in that unyielding position, her back pressed against his front.

She couldn't even confront him face to face. "I'm leaving! Let me go!"

"Never," he said into her ear darkly. There was a strange tension in the way he had answered her. Chu Qiao stilled for a moment at the promise in his pained tone.

Before she had a chance to decide what to do, they were interrupted for the second time that night. She stayed quiet as she listened to Yuwen Yue's exchange with Minister Tian outside the door. When they were done, she took the opportunity to break out of his embrace.

So Wei Shuye was here, and as Yuwen Yue so helpfully informed her, the princess wanted her dead. Chu Qiao understood, to some extent—Chun'er had suffered and as the men who had raped her were already dead, the object of her vengeance had transferred to Chu Qiao herself. Even now, Chun'er couldn't bear to direct her anger at Yan Xun.

"So what are _you_ doing here in the first place?" she asked Yuwen Yue. It couldn't be coincidence that they were all in this city. Had they all tracked her here?

"I was looking for you," he admitted. "The whole world is out for your head right now, everyone from local officials and the imperial soldiers, to bounty hunters."

"You needn't be so concerned for my sake." But Wei Shuye posed a problem. Chu Qiao couldn't leave now, with his men no doubt closely watching the entire area and noting who was coming and going. She would have to spend the night here.

"Stay in your bed," she warned. "I'll be over here." She pointed at the reclining couch farthest away.

Yuwen Yue merely looked at her and nodded. "As you like."

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Chu Qiao had hardly been able to sleep all night, her mind too busy. The best she could get was a half doze, and even then she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or reliving the events of the past day. Every time she had closed her eyes, she had been all too aware of Yuwen Yue lying just across the room on the very same bed that now occupied far too many of her thoughts. Though he was quiet and didn't toss and turn the way she did, she wondered if he, too, had lain there on the bed awake all night. The strain of all her worrying gave her a headache.

So when Yuwen Yue confronted her over breakfast and reiterated the many dangers that lay before her, she did not have much patience, even though she understood what he was trying to do. He was doing the same thing he always did with her, the same thing he had done ever since he had found her alive again, hiding in the Oriole Courtyard. He was trying to persuade her not to go to Yanbei and not to follow Yan Xun, though he never put it in quite such blunt terms.

Even though he knew how she would respond and she knew what he would say, they still did the same song and dance, neither one willing to change their position. So he told her once again that she was foolish and crazy to make the entire world her enemy, and she told him once again that she didn't care and that she was afraid of nothing, not even death.

"Yanbei is Yan Xun's hometown. So it is mine too." She couldn't be any clearer than that. "Even if it costs my life, I will still go to Yanbei."

Chu Qiao could see him gritting his teeth and biting back words when she said that, his usual equanimity lost. He kept his hands folded behind his back as though he would otherwise reach out to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her.

"Yuwen Yue…" Seeing him like that did not leave her entirely unmoved. But there was nothing she could offer him, no other words or promises. Chu Qiao had made her choice long ago. Whatever thing was between them wasn't meant to be. Why couldn't he admit that? She didn't believe in fate, or red threads, or destiny. She had come from nothing—she was a girl with no past, and thus even when she had been a slave, she had always known that her future was free.

He was looking at her in that same way as last night, when he had told her he would never let go. "Fine. If you want to go, you may." When he saw that she was looking intently at him, he purposely turned away. "If you are caught by others, if you are hurt, or if you die somewhere…none of it matters. Just don't let me know. Let it be somewhere I can't see, somewhere I can't reach, some place where I can't help you…"

He finally met her gaze and his bleak expression rendered her speechless. "Or else I won't be able to bear it."

Before Chu Qiao could reply, he strode quickly away. He was usually a man of few words and even fewer expressions, and yet he had said such things to her, had offered her a glimpse of how he truly felt. She stared after his disappearing form, left only with the gravity of his words and an uncomfortable twisting in her chest that she realized might be what was known as heartache.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

She was supposed to go off on her own path, back to Yanbei. Yuwen Yue had said nothing more to dissuade her and had even agreed to send her off after the banquet with Wei Shuye. Perhaps it was because of that or perhaps it was because she couldn't seem to put aside his words or shake off the feelings they had produced, but she wore the rose pink clothing he had picked out for her, painstakingly applied the makeup, and even arranged her hair.

Yuwen Yue's subsequent commentary on how she looked like a woman after dressing up had made her feel as though she were back on more solid footing. It was with relief that she spit out a retort at him, expecting more of the same back, but then she had turned and come face to face with him. His gaze had seemed softer than usual and he had complimented her in his typical understated way, though a bit quietly.

The banquet had passed just as expected, though Chu Qiao's thoughts were far away as she planned out how she would rescue Liang and then leave on the back of a stolen horse. She rather thought that Yuwen Yue was enjoying parading her around as "his woman" right under the noses of all the very people intent on finding her. Wei Shuye was such an amateur—he was far out of his league and he should have known it, especially after the last scheme he was involved in got Wei Guan executed. In fact, Yuwen Yue had saved his life by intervening with the Emperor.

Though Wei Shuye almost certainly knew her identity, he simply didn't have the skill to outmaneuver Yuwen Yue. Yet he still tried. Love made people do crazy things, Chu Qiao mused. The spoiled princess didn't deserve his devotion, but then again, love was rarely about what one deserved.

"Xing'er, wake up," Yuwen Yue murmured, shaking her from her thoughts. She _had_ planned on going off on her own path, and yet she had ended up here instead: poisoned by a needle meant for Yuwen Yue and now pretending to be his wife while stuck in cramped quarters with him while they traveled with the caravan troop. Yuwen Yue had implied that he'd taken care of her for those four days that she had slept, rendered unconscious by the poison in her system. She hadn't had the courage to ask who had changed her out of her clothes. She dimly recalled sleeping with her head on his lap, too.

"How are you feeling? Any worse?" He handed her some water and she drank. Her eyes felt like lead weights, so she closed them again.

"No. Just tired," she mumbled. "Why do you wake me up so often?"

"I told you the medicine I've been giving you only slowed the poison's damage, but it doesn't negate the effects. I don't want you falling back into a coma. Do you remember anything I said?"

She didn't, but she nodded anyway. Her body slid towards his as he leaned back on the cushions beside her. Normally she would have been alarmed that he was right next to her, but under the influence of the herbs, his proximity felt extraordinarily good. He smelled pleasantly of some woodsy scent. He was warm and his shoulder was a much better pillow for her head.

He put his hand on her forehead to check her temperature and then brushed some hair away from her face, but made no move to dislodge her. In fact, he secured her by slipping his arm around her waist, keeping her head from sliding off his shoulder with all the bumps in the road. "Next time don't be so silly. You shouldn't have blocked that needle for me."

"What was I going to do instead? Let you take it?" She meant to say it smartly, but she was so sleepy that it didn't sound that way. "That wouldn't make me a very good wife now would it, dear husband?"

His arm around her tightened momentarily and she felt the edges of her mouth curl up in the smallest smirk. The day she stopped baiting him would be the day she died.

"The amount of poison wouldn't have affected me nearly as much as it does you. I'm certain I taught you that before." Yuwen Yue sounded strangely pleased and yet also somewhat upset. The combination was so odd that Chu Qiao forced open an eye but saw nothing but the strong line of his jaw.

She yawned. "Maybe the real solution is to get assassins to leave us alone then. Now can we stop talking? Your 'wife' is still recuperating, isn't that the story?"

"Xing'er…"

"What?"

There was a long pause. "Nothing. Go back to sleep. I'll be here."

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! **Please review and let me know what you think** , your interest and enthusiasm for the story means so much to me :3


	9. An Infinity of Stars

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

March 17, 2018

 **Author's Note** : Thank you all for staying around for my awfully slow updates. As you might have known, I've been through a lot of big career moves in the last few months, so thanks for all your patience while I get my life sorted out! I've had 14+ hour days and have been so exhausted from all the driving I had to do, I basically lost months of my life—but I've moved to a new place and I'll be much better off now. Without all your reviews and encouragement, this story wouldn't be here.

"An Infinity of Stars" corresponds with episodes 46-49 but in order to prepare for the events going past the ending of the PA drama, I've started to change some things and add more. Since I haven't read the novel and since the drama is already different from the novel, please note that Chu Qiao's characterization and background story will be **very** different from any expectations you might already have.

In particular, I'm planning on making an important change to what happened with Yanbei (particularly Yan Xun's father, Yan Shicheng, and Chu Qiao's mother, Luo He), which will have consequences for how we understand the drama and Yan Xun's cause.

* * *

 **An Infinity of Stars**

* * *

Chu Qiao didn't quite know how she had ended up here in the same company as Yuwen Yue again, still weak from poison, and with a child to watch over, too. One thing had simply led to another and of course she was unable to turn her back on the innocent young victims of the conflict in Yanbei, the ones left behind. The Xianyang business council was _gone_. Someone had made a power play and ordered the cold execution of its leaders and their entire families. It was eerily reminiscent of that terrible, unforgettable day at the Jiuyou Tai. Somehow before she quite knew it, she was suddenly here pouring out her heart to a kid who probably couldn't comprehend half of what she was saying about revenge and forgiveness.

If the gods truly meddled in the affairs of man, they surely were having a long laugh at her expense. Chu Qiao had never believed in destiny, but as she sat there in the cave waiting until Mo'er fell asleep on his makeshift bed, she could not escape the unsettling sense that she had become a witness to the start of another long tragedy.

The little boy looked so innocent now, and yet he hadn't cried or grieved as a child should at the massacre of his entire family. Instead, he had withdrawn into a numb silence. How much of it was shock? Would the wounds he suffered now scar over into hatred and a burning need for revenge? The world as he had known it had ended and even his last protector, the young servant girl named Xing Xing, had been killed too.

One day, this little boy would become a young man, and perhaps he, too, would rise in vengeance. She didn't know how much he had understood of what she had said to him, but in her heart, Chu Qiao knew that her words were as much for herself and Yan Xun as for Mo'er.

 _When that day comes in the future… Whatever you do, I will forgive you, because I know how you suffered. But before you do anything wrong, I will find a way to stop you._

But what she did not express to Mo'er was that she was afraid it was already too late, that she had already failed before and would fail again. It had been unsettling for her to hear him swear that he would grow up and kill those who had killed his family. Once, she would have told him to use that hatred as fuel to keep on living, but now it only made her feel as if it was proof that the world was unbearably broken.

She felt as though she were riding back to the East Gate in Chang'an again, seeing with her own eyes the ropes that tied the massive doors shut—the undeniable evidence that Yan Xun had planned to betray the Xiuli men all along, needlessly sacrificing them to death during their uprising against the Emperor and escape from the city.

That day had been the last time she had seen Yan Xun.

Chu Qiao had thought that the time apart from him would clear her head, that she would catch the things she had missed so that she could understand why things had happened so differently from what she had believed was the plan. Instead, she felt more confused than ever, and her stomach churned uneasily with doubt.

It was easy to put on a resolute face and tone in front of Yuwen Yue, who would seize on any little evidence of uncertainty on her part, but despite her strong words about loyalty above all else, she wasn't stupid.

Yuwen Yue hadn't said a word about it, but she couldn't even meet his gaze for fear of what she would find in his expression. If it really had been Lord Liu Xi who had independently moved against the members of the Xianyang business council, ordering the murder of the entire Ouyang family, why would he have let the two of them go? She and Yuwen Yue had made a direct attack on the men and had been completely surrounded.

No doubt word had spread everywhere of how highly Yan Xun valued the woman named Chu Qiao, so that was almost certainly the reason why their lives had been spared. And yet…that still required someone there in the camp to have recognized her.

Chu Qiao could not get around this fact. She'd been mostly hidden in the Oriole courtyard for the past three years with only Zhong Yu and Yan Xun as her main companions. Only the most trusted people had known of her true identity and secret affiliation with Yan Xun. Of course, she was now a wanted rebel in name, but not many would recognize her face.

All of that meant that either Yan Xun himself or someone in their innermost circle had been there in that camp to recognize her and pass down the order to let them go. _Who_ had been that figure in the dark? The same person had killed the business council and all their extended family. The same person had the blood of Mo'er's parents on his hands. The only thing she could be sure of was that it _wasn't_ Lord Liu Xi, as they had first thought. Even if it had been General Cheng Yuan, she could not shake the nagging doubt that Yan Xun was merely keeping his own hands clean by letting Cheng do all his dirty work of consolidating power.

Chu Qiao stared morosely into the fire until her eyes burned, knowing she had to leave before Yuwen Yue came back, but unable to stir herself into motion yet.

She remembered the imperial guards that she had stopped on the day of the uprising, for no reason other than her immediate assumption that they had to have been acting against an innocent person. Instead, it had been the "innocent" man, an escaped prisoner, who had killed the boy. And then after that, there were the men who had defiled Chun'er, who thought they were acting on Yan Xun's orders. Now there were even more families killed for the sake of power, another young boy set squarely on the darkest path to revenge.

When had she let herself become so blinded by Yan Xun's cause that she couldn't even tell right from wrong?

 _I admired you for your confidence in your own abilities, but you don't see your own arrogance and self-righteousness…_

Yuan Song's bitter words to her after his sister's rape haunted her. She hadn't let him see just how deeply they had cut, but in the quiet of the night, she couldn't escape the echo of the anguish in his voice.

She had to find Yan Xun again. She had to go back to Yanbei with him. Perhaps there, in that vast and free land, they could put aside all the bloodshed and vengeance and begin again.

Hatred was too gentle of a word to describe her feelings against the Wei Emperor, and disgust was too shallow of a word to adequately express her feelings over the injustice she had witnessed in her lifetime. Yet Chu Qiao knew—she had known, ever since she had ridden back over a burning bridge to the Xiuli troops—that Yan Xun was straddling the very edge of a line that once crossed, he could not come back from. In twenty years, would his actions be indistinguishable from those of the Emperor?

She was no longer as young and certain as she used to be. What history would be told from the perspective of a child like Mo'er? After all, what possible threat could a little lowborn girl like Xing Xing pose against Yanbei? Her death, like so many others, were meaningless, and if their deaths were seen as necessary for Yan Xun to rise as the leader of Yanbei, just what kind of state would they be building?

 _But before you do anything wrong, I will find a way to stop you._

She shivered despite the heat from the fire and blamed the stinging of her eyes on the smoke. She had always lived her life with conviction, no matter how low she had fallen or how much she had suffered, but now she felt as though she no longer knew what path she was taking or who she was following.

It seemed so long ago that she had tried to find out more from her past and had decided to follow Yan Xun to Yanbei—not only to help him avenge his family, but also to find a man that she only knew by his surname, Mr. Wu. When Chu Qiao thought of Xing Xing's protection of Mo'er, despite the vast gulf in their social classes, she suddenly thought of her sisters again. She was ashamed to realize that it had been years since she had wondered whether they were doing well and if she would see them again. Were they living happily in Yanbei, as Yan Xun had promised? Even if they were not truly related by blood, they were the last of her family.

All these thoughts came in a flood as unpleasant as the shock of cold water. Ever since that day on the Jiuyou Tai, she had focused her entire life around Yan Xun, to the point that there was nothing else really left for her.

She couldn't go on like this, straying farther and farther away from her purpose until she no longer knew what it was. As for Yuwen Yue… Everything was infinitely more confusing around him. She had been delaying their separation, but they both knew it was inevitable. Mo'er would be safe with him but she had too much more she needed to do.

As Chu Qiao wrote a note to Yuwen Yue, unable to say much more than her thanks, she remembered the rare glimpse of honesty that he had shown her.

 _In the last three years, I've come to understand your hatred for the unfairness of the world. If I said I wanted to share your dream, would you believe it?_

She had scoffed and pointed out that he didn't even know what her dream was.

It was only now that she began to realize she didn't even know herself.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Yuwen Yue had once prided himself on being as straight and steady as the path of an arrow. His ultimate goals in life had been very simple. Whatever he did, it was to bring power and prestige to the Yuwen household. His parents had dishonored the family name, his uncle had been a lecherous, out of control madman, and his not so dearly departed cousin had been a sadistic murderer. He was the last hope of his family and Yuwen Yue had accepted the role his grandfather had assigned to him without much complaint.

All of that had changed with one person. _He_ had changed because of that person. Even Yue Qi had tried to remind him time and time again of the impossibility of his position: he was a general of Wei and she was a rebel of Yanbei. They were on opposite sides of a struggle between two great powers, a conflict that was on the verge of becoming an open war. Whether the situation was framed by Xiao Ce's well-intentioned advice or Wei Shuye's mocking insults, the reality didn't change. They were incompatible down to their very identities. He was the lord of the Yuwen estate and she, a former slave. That should have been the end of it.

As he left the mazelike fortress of the Afterlife Camp, having nearly singlehandedly destroyed the entire organization of mysterious assassins, Yuwen Yue could not help but wonder what he was really doing.

The past few days had been one long, unending trial for him but he had tirelessly fought through it with a single purpose: he needed to find the antidote for the Dengxian poison that would kill Xing'er. He had put aside his thoughts and feelings on everything else.

Back then, he hadn't been at all surprised to return to Mo'er only to find her gone, leaving behind only a note for him and the little boy. Nor had he been surprised to learn that it had been Yan Xun all along in the camp that night, the true mastermind behind the executions of the Xianyang councilmembers and their families, as well as the one who had ultimately decided to let them go. He suspected that even Xing'er had to wonder about those events, but Yuwen Yue had seen no point in bringing it up. Yan Xun had always, and would always, stand between them. At the very least, Yuwen Yue understood this, regardless of whether he could actually accept it.

But what choice did he have in this matter? The harsh truth was, he didn't know himself whether there were any limits to what he would do for her.

It wasn't that he was in denial over his untenable position. More than anyone else, Yuwen Yue knew the exact consequences of his actions, but he had meant every word that he had said to her. She had the freedom to go and leave him behind, and he could let her go if he must, but he couldn't simply stand by to let her be killed. He couldn't bear to think that the next news he might have of her was that she was dead, when he could have saved her.

 _You'll need me to kill for you,_ Meng Feng had said bluntly. _Someone wants to kill your woman._

Even an assassin could see it more clearly than he could.

Even if her loyalty was to Yan Xun, his loyalty was only to her.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

A voice urged her to push herself harder, to train even longer, to not give up. Every muscle in her body ached, every bone hurt. Her strength faltered and pain washed over her world, but the commands still came relentlessly. She gritted her teeth, determined to bear the agony. She would not give up. She loved this woman, even as she also feared her, and so Chu Qiao obeyed. This woman was the center of her world—this woman, who was not only her master, but also her mother.

Chu Qiao drifted in and out of consciousness, gasping as a hot, bitter liquid was forced down her throat.

"Oh, Qiao Qiao, what mess have you landed in now?" murmured a familiar voice.

She struggled to open her eyes but was too tired to do so. She recognized the soft, smooth fingers that delicately brushed her hair out of her face, though. There was the faint smell of a flowery perfume, though it was not quite truly feminine. It could be none other than Xiao Ce. Some part of her relaxed, instinctively feeling that she was still safe with the prince of Da Liang.

"You will be all right," the voice told her. "He might be a fool in love with you, but at least he's a useful fool. With this antidote, it'll only take you a few days to recover. I'll even give you some space to breathe and send him away."

Chu Qiao wanted to ask Xiao Ce what he meant and who he was sending away, but the medicine she had taken was spreading a lazy, comfortable warmth through her body. She slipped deeper and deeper into a drugged sleep. But the same time, it seemed to nudge open all the doors to the parts of her mind that she had kept firmly closed.

Another part of her was dreaming, or perhaps remembering.

She shivered in the icy cold water, the lower half of her small body frozen to the point that she had almost stopped shivering. Bucket after bucket of melted snow water was poured over her head, the timing of each spaced just far apart enough that her body began to recover, for sensations to penetrate through the numbness, before she was assaulted once more.

But the water hid her tears. Chu Qiao was so afraid that she was almost sick from it. She didn't have enough inner strength to survive this. She had not had enough time to cultivate her power. She was still only a child, not even ten years old. She had no siblings, and sometimes at night she dreamed that she was alone not because her mother had not had any other children, but rather, because her older siblings had all died from this training.

"Breathe through it," her mother instructed her. "Concentrate. Find the power from within you. You are not weak. You CANNOT be."

But she _felt_ weak. She felt dizzy and terrified and helpless. Chu Qiao swayed on her feet, trying her hardest not to collapse to her knees. If she still believed in the gods, she would have prayed to them. What if she simply wasn't strong enough?

It was as if her mother had heard her thoughts. "You cannot be weak! _You are my daughter._ "

Chu Qiao cried out in anger and pain and defiance. It was better than sobbing, even if her roar was pitifully weak. She was nothing more than a mewling cub compared to her mother's ferocious tiger.

She loved her mother, but she also hated her. Time meant nothing during one of these training sessions; she could have been in here for days, or just a few hours. Over and over again her mother pushed her to her limits and all the way past them, and then waited for her broken self to heal just enough in order to do it all over again. This was how one honed a child into a weapon.

She would not beg for it to stop. If nothing else, she still had some pride.

But the darkness was closing in, a black veil dropping over her eyes, and she had no choice but to succumb.

When she rose to consciousness again an undetermined amount of time later, she felt her mother's hands on her back, transferring spiritual energy to her.

"You were born for a great purpose. Together, you and I will change the world," her mother promised. "With this power, we will tear down the hierarchies of the Great Wei. Not even that pandering fool Yan Sicheng will stand in our way. Even if it takes a decade of bloodshed to achieve peace and equality, we will continue to rise. Whether it takes ten thousand deaths or a hundred thousand deaths, we will free the world from this tyrannical order!"

Her mother was always frightening, but never more so than when she was like this. Chu Qiao didn't understand it very well, but she understood enough. She had been born for a cause—for her mother's cause. The skin between her shoulders burned like hot iron was being pressed to it.

Luo He traced her fingers over the elaborate flower etched onto her only daughter's back. What had started out as lines of ghostly silver was deepening into a dark crimson, petals unfurling with increasing detail.

When she spoke, her voice was almost reverent. "Yanbei, united or divided, will lead the way. _We_ will lead the way."

Then there were hundreds of hands, all wanting to touch her, this promised child of prophecy. There were always so many devoted followers. Even though Chu Qiao had trained with many of them her entire childhood, she only knew a handful of names, and those were often only code names. Each and every one of them, however, was loyal to the point of death and beyond. Luo He would not tolerate anything else.

Not even from—or perhaps especially not—her own daughter.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Yuwen Yue had never been one to indulge in wine, especially since he had grown up seeing the victims of his uncle's drunken excesses, but as with so many other things, that had changed in the last few years of his life. Mostly for one reason—or rather, one person.

For someone who had long prided himself on his self-restraint, he had certainly been showing very little of it recently. His only excuse was that he had gone for nights thinking that Chu Qiao was on the edge of death and even after he had obtained the antidote to the Dengxian poison and sent it back, he'd been delayed because he had needed to handle the mess at the Afterlife Camp. He was almost certain that the woman he had fought and injured was a spy from Da Liang, which begged the question: what were they after, and why had they been trying to infiltrate the Nirvana tests at the Afterlife Camp too? They had interfered more than a few times now in his affairs and one of these days he would have to get to the bottom of it all.

Still, Yuwen Yue had rushed back to Chu Qiao, only for Xiao Ce to tell him that after all that, she had already recovered and left. When she had suddenly appeared before him in that courtyard, calling his name, and he'd realized that Xiao Ce had lied, the shock and relief had been overwhelming. She had felt so small and vulnerable in his arms and he couldn't get over how close he had been to losing her.

Which, he thought with a tinge of bitterness, was why he had given into his impulses and embarrassed himself in the conversation that followed. Hearing her speak so tenderly of Yan Xun, how she had to be there to comfort him, and about how Yan Xun needed her—didn't _he_ mean anything to her?

 _I need you, too. Can you feel it?_

Every time his own words echoed in his head, he felt compelled to try to drown them out, along with the flood of unpleasant emotions they evoked. No amount of alcohol could erase the pathetic memory though, and over and over again he recalled the blank look Xing'er had given him in response. She had stared at him without answering, just as she had stopped herself from reaching out to touch him even as they had kissed.

Even though he had heard her breath catch and felt her respond, it was never enough. Xing'er seemed to have room in her life for only one person, and that simply wasn't him. All her devotion went to Yan Xun and he was a fool for still trying to convince himself that there was any other possible outcome.

He had saved her life but he hadn't gotten the antidote from the Afterlife Camp in order to earn her gratitude, even though that was all she could offer him. The painful conversation that had led to that moment of weakness—on his part more than hers, he had to admit—had made that very clear. What other outcome had he really hoped for? Had he truly expected her to choose him, even when her actions and words had shown over and over again that whether or not she cared for him, he was and would never be her priority?

Yuwen Yue cursed himself for once again acting like a lovesick fool, a role he thoroughly despised. But again, what other choice did he have, when she kept endangering her own life? He could live with her leaving him over and over again. He couldn't live with her death.

That first day after she had left, Yue Qi had given him sympathetic glances all morning, though with a tiny hint of disapproval in that way that only his best guard could get away with. Yuwen Yue had to wonder if the Yue guards still even respected him, after his actions. But he was the master and their lot in life was to follow, and besides that, he had never cared less about maintaining his reputation.

Now the war that he had been anticipating had finally arrived, and as expected, Yan Xun was willing to sacrifice his supposed beloved homeland in order to wreak vengeance on Chang'an. Yuwen Yue understood military strategy better than anyone else he had ever met, but more importantly, he understood the motivations that drove his former friend.

Yan Xun would sacrifice Hongchuan City and possibly also other Yanbei provinces in a heartbeat, as long as he had a chance to directly attack the heart of the Wei empire. His hold on Yanbei had crumbled faster than he could even claim it, but he wouldn't care. The eight factions of the grasslands and the countless tribes and clans beneath them were too busy fighting each other for power to be interested in rising up against the Wei emperor.

What Yuwen Yue had understood all along, and what Yan Xun had never accepted, was that the Duke of Yanbei had never been universally beloved in his own land. He had chosen to ally with the Wei emperor and to call him "brother"—and this was the very same untrustworthy man that was cause of his later downfall and death. It was a fateful decision that had never satisfied all the clans. In addition to that, the reality of his rule had never matched his son's perception of it. There had been plenty of unrest and discontentment in Yanbei, along with endless internal rivalries that Duke Yan Sicheng had done a poor job of managing.

"Yan Xun, do you finally see it clearly now?" Yuwen Yue murmured to himself. "There were reasons why it all fell apart so quickly with your family's deaths, three years ago. The Wei may have invaded, but Yanbei was ready for the taking."

He hadn't needed the information from the Eyes of God spy network to know that. Southern Liang, too, had been poised to stir up trouble between Yanbei and Wei for years before the emperor turned on Yan Shicheng. The Wei emperor may have wronged the Duke of Yanbei, who by all accounts _had_ been loyal and would not have rebelled, but the unrest that had spurred the emperor's paranoia had been real. Ironically, it was Yan Shicheng who had tried to keep the peace, but he was vilified as being the emperor's pawn.

Some of the factions in Yanbei had indeed wanted to rebel against the Wei and had seen the death of their ruler as an opportunity to carry out their own agenda. Those were the clans and tribes who followed General Cheng Yuan now, though Yan Xun probably thought that he had their loyalty. He didn't understand his own precarious position as a figurehead for a cause they had never believed in; his father had been no friend of theirs.

They shared a common goal now, though. Chang'an, the seat of power for the Wei, was the prize. None of these war hawks cared about what would happen to the innocent citizens of both Wei and Yan cities, like those living in Hong Chuan, or Lin, or Chang'an.

At best, Yan Xun was a hypocrite and at worst, he was a self-absorbed child who saw himself as the hero of his own story. He must have been so disappointed upon his return to Yanbei. Yuwen Yue had been on the receiving end of enough speeches from Yan Xun to know that the prince saw his homeland as some land of endless freedom, as a utopia. Every injustice, whether large or small, that he had felt or witnessed in Chang'an had been tripled by his certainty that Yanbei was somehow different, special, _better_.

Of course, Yan Xun had been a child when he had left Yanbei, with a child's rosy memories of both his father—a heroic figure in his imagination, respected by all the citizens—and of his homeland. He didn't realize that the clans had looked down on his father for being so weak as to let his heir grow up as a captive hostage prince in Chang'an.

The reality was something that Yan Xun was just now discovering, and it looked like that was the reason he was willing to forsake Hongchuan by sending the Black Eagle Army through the Meilin border straight to Chang'an. It was just like how he had abandoned the Xiuli troops because they didn't fit his ideological conception of what loyal Yanbei troops were supposed to be like.

Just like when they were young, Yan Xun still thought too simplistically in a child's good and evil, black and white, whereas Yuwen Yue had never known anything other than gray.

Once, three years ago, when he'd realized what deadly forces had been set into motion, Yuwen Yue had hoped that his friend would return to Yanbei and learn all these truths for himself. Yan Xun's ideals could have shaped him into a force of good. He would have matured to become the leader than his homeland needed—someone who could truly unite the clans of the steppes and perhaps, with the strength of them behind him, even broken free from the tyrannical rule of the Wei without so much bloodshed.

But it was far too late now to lament what could have been.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Seven days. If Yan Xun didn't come with reinforcements after that… Chu Qiao knew the city was all but lost already. It would be a miracle to even hold off the Wei for seven days with her ragtag company of Xiuli soldiers.

She cursed Cheng Yuan again for taking the coward's way out and abandoning the city, but she refused to believe that the plan to sacrifice Hong Chuan, to use it as a distraction for the Wei army, had come from Yan Xun. No, until she had a chance to talk to Yan Xun herself to determine what really had happened, she would not believe the worst of him. Not even after the reception she had received at the gates of the city.

The only man who could have told her the truth was dead. She still couldn't believe it despite having witnessed it herself. Feng Mian, who had always, _always_ been loyal to Yan Xun, had died to warn her than Cheng Yuan was waiting to ambush her inside Hong Chuan. When she closed her eyes, she could still vividly recall the exact moment when he had screamed the warning to her and the Xiuli men, even as he had been skewered with a spear and pushed over the city wall to fall dead in front of all their disbelieving eyes.

Chu Qiao no longer knew what to think, what to believe, or who to trust. The Wei had decimated her small force already. Over half of her fighters had died already or were too badly wounded to be in action. The rest—everyone over the age of 15 and under the age of 50—were mostly city folk, completely untrained in fighting and little more than cannon fodder with their few battle skills. She had done her best to evacuate the women and children, the too young and too elderly, but there were so many citizens left who could not or would not go. Then there were others like Du Ping An, who also stayed behind because of those family members who couldn't leave.

The teenager's bravado about his readiness to fight to defend his home had made her smile, but that had quickly faded when she had wondered if she was only leading him to his death. Though she had made some rousing speeches about defending the city and though she supervised the preparations, Chu Qiao could feel the hopelessness in the air, the waiting tension of lambs about to be led to the slaughter.

He Xiao helped her maintain the illusion that she had been sent from Yan Xun to hold the city against the Wei army until the Yan reinforcements could arrive, but he knew it for the lie that it was. To his credit, he had not pressed Chu Qiao for answers, though she knew he had his own suspicions about what was happening and why Yan Xun had left nothing but a single general in the city—a single general who had fled with what few troops had been stationed in Hong Chuan.

She longed to see Yan Xun again, to see with her own eyes that he was all right. She needed to ask him why. Had he really ordered the massacre of the Xianyang business councilmembers and their families? Had they posed some threat to him that she had not been aware of, which would explain why he had them killed? Why, Yan Xun, why…

Chu Qiao was haunted by so many questions and ever since she had taken the antidote to the Dengixan poison, she had not been sleeping well, if at all. No matter how tired she was, every time she closed her eyes, she seemed to wake to barely-remembered nightmares of being cold and afraid. But oddly enough, she woke from those dream states sometimes with other sensations too. She had also felt…loved? Or at least cared for strongly, as if she were someone precious.

She tried her best to ignore the disturbing fragments of memories, attributing them to a guilty subconscious mind. She knew she didn't deserve the kind of love and devotion that she craved and that was probably why she kept dreaming of such alternatingly terrifying and comforting feelings.

The person who had done the most for her, the person who _had_ demonstrated with his actions that she was someone precious to him, was someone that she had let walk away without another word.

 _I need you, too. Can you feel it?_

Chu Qiao had never answered him, but it was better that way. What use were wants and feelings, when neither of them were free to do as they wished? They both had duties, obligations, loyalties. If nothing else, the situation in Hongchuan had driven that point home. On both sides, whether Wei or Yan, innocent people caught up in this struggle for power depended on them for nothing less than their lives.

But as night fell and Chu Qiao counted the many long hours that made up seven days, she wondered if she needed to have begrudged him even that one word.

"Yes," she whispered down into the darkness, where no one could hear her. She looked up at the inky night sky. Was he looking up at the same stars tonight?

 _Do you know why I call you Xing'er? Your eyes remind me of the stars. They're brilliant and brimming with life. When I look at you, I see all the infinite possibilities that I never believed in before._

She had wondered why before, when she was at the Green Hills Court. She remembered her sisters teasing her about how he had given her such a pretty name, obviously one to match his own. Xiao Qi had been certain their fortunes had reversed now that she had been picked by Yuwen Yue himself to serve as his personal maid, while Xiao Ba had sulked out of jealousy, alternately excited over their rising status and depressed because of her own crush on Yuwen Yue.

But Chu Qiao had never cared for girlish gossip. What had softened her heart toward him, despite the misunderstandings about her brother's death and his role in her family's suffering, was nothing as simple as a name or a few pretty words. So much of who she was came from him; she fought with the techniques and style that he had taught her, she assessed and analyzed with the skills she had learned as a spy. Of course she had been extraordinarily gifted in all these things already, but he had seen the potential in her.

The things he admired in her, though, had always been part of her. He had said as much before. He respected her hatred of injustice, her determination to fight no matter how hopeless, and her survivor's spirit.

If he saw the infinite possibility of the stars in her, then what did she see in him? She saw a safe haven, a strong and magnetic presence, a perfect constant. Those weren't exactly the qualities that her sisters had daydreamed over. Chu Qiao could imagine Xiao Ba's slight pout as she accused her of not having a single romantic bone in her entire body; the memory brought a faint smile to her face.

But though Yuwen Yue _was_ handsome, rich, titled, and noble in bearing and skills, she valued him in ways that she could not even begin to describe. She didn't worry about him, because he was more than smart enough and capable enough to do what he needed to do. He protected what he valued with his life. She trusted that no matter how many times she left him, he would still be there.

If she was a star defying the structure of the heavens, then he was the moon, waxing and waning but always there to guide her in the darkness. If she lost her way, he would help her find it back. For the first time since she had returned to Yan Bei, she let herself remember their kiss. Both during his sudden embrace and during the unexpected kiss, she had held herself rigidly. She had clenched the fabric of her clothing so hard that she could still remember the exact feeling of the coarse material between her fingertips. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of reaching out to him, of touching him, of _wanting_ him. But the truth was… The truth was…

"I need you too, Yuwen Yue."

It was such a cold and lonely admission. She had always claimed to need no one and nothing. Now, knowing that the chance was high that she wouldn't even have seven more days on this earth, Chu Qiao wished that she had just let herself touch him back. Had he understand how she felt, or had he finally given up on her?

It was not goodbye, she told herself. It was merely a separation, a parting, until they met again.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I'm a little nervous to put this out there because we're catching up to the ending of the drama, which means I'll finally be writing a normally paced story after that. I know it's been hard for you guys to follow this as a story because of all the time jumps and because each "chapter" is supposed to be more of a stand alone story that goes into more depth than the drama. It's been hard to write like that too and I've regretted going with this format a few times, but I do think in the end, it's the best way to accomplish what I wanted to do, which is build a more solid back story so I can continue where the drama ended.

So, all that said, **please review and share your thoughts**!


	10. Worlds Apart

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

June 27, 2018

 **Author's Note** : Only a few more episodes until we get to where the drama leaves off and I start writing new stuff! Since my writing style is going to change a lot—no more disconnected one shot mini-stories with time gaps—I will probably post it as a separate story when we get there. I've tentatively plotted it out but I haven't decided on anything yet. The updates should be a little more consistent because to be honest, I've really struggled with writing this. I'm not fond of rehashing the plot (especially when it's so incoherent to begin with), but because of the way I set this up, that's just what happened.

"Worlds Apart" corresponds with uncut episodes 50-52. The storyline really fell apart even more around here and I started to kind of hate the drama, so expect changes.

* * *

 **Worlds Apart**

* * *

Even from a distance, Chun'er was a lovely vision in vermilion and gold, dressed in clothing more suitable for an imperial wedding than a war. No doubt the princess had chosen her clothing and jewelry with extra care, using the traditional color of happiness and fortune to send a pointed message. After all, her wedding day had marked the beginning of this war and the end to her old life of privilege.

Yuan Chun's motivations were childishly transparent. She, who had always lived in comfort and luxury, her every whim attended to and her every tantrum appeased, had suffered. Therefore, the whole world must suffer with her.

Chu Qiao lay still on her back, too wounded to move even as Chun'er advanced toward her. The princess was still beautiful, though cold cruelty transformed her expression into something unrecognizable. Though she had been foolish, though she had made mistakes, she had paid dearly for them. She hadn't deserved to be broken and discarded, or to be seen as something less than human.

"You never thought this day would come for you like this, did you?" Chun'er mocked as she gazed down at Chu Qiao. There was a touch of madness in her eyes; the gleam of someone who thought they had nothing else they could possibly lose.

Though she continued her venomous speech, the rest of her words blurred into meaninglessness in Chu Qiao's ears. She made out enough words to understand that Chun'er expected her to be angry, to rail at the cosmic irony of having saved the princess from her attackers, only to be killed by her.

Once upon a time, Chu Qiao would indeed have raged at the princess. Did she think she was the only young woman in the world who had been raped and violated, mind and body? Did she think that her personal suffering was any more tragic than what had happened to Chu Qiao's sister, or the countless women of Yanbei after the emperor's armies had invaded, simply because she had been a pampered princess of the Great Wei?

But Chu Qiao voiced none of this. As Chun'er stood above her, full of hate and resentment, Chu Qiao could only pity her for her blindness. The princess was surrounded by so many who loved her: her mother, her brother, and even her hopeless admirers, like Wei Shuye. Yet she was so self-centered that their love was wasted.

"I will toss your head at Yan Xun's feet!" the princess screamed, lifting a sword awkwardly.

Chu Qiao only closed her eyes. What Chun'er did not know was that she had long since gone beyond anger. It was true that she had felt hurt and rage when she had confronted Zhong Yu, and had felt the sharp blow of betrayal when she realized that Yan Xun had decided to abandon Hong Chuan. But all that was days ago, eight thousand deaths ago, a river of blood and a ransacked city ago.

All she could feel now was a bottomless pit of despair. The sounds of battle had quieted and there were countless dead around them. So many lives needlessly lost for the sake of retribution, whether it was in the name of Yan Xun or Chun'er. When would it ever end?

It was Zhong Yu's voice that echoed in her ears. _You are the closest person to Yan Xun. You should understand him_.

Chu Qiao did understand—she understood it all, but she no longer knew what to do with her understanding. She had seen firsthand what Yan Xun had suffered, just as she had seen how Chun'er had transformed from a naïve and spoiled princess to this red vision of vengeance.

The Chu Qiao who had existed three years ago had begged Yan Xun to stay alive, if only for revenge. That girl had helped him plan it out, so great was her faith in the righteousness of his cause. She had chosen to ignore how many innocent people would suffer—it had been easy to convince herself that there would be no peace without bloodshed, without more orphans, without more horror. She had been sure that the ends justified the means.

In her own way, Chu Qiao had been just as naïve as Chun'er. What had she known about war? _That_ Chu Qiao could not have even fathomed what it was like to witness thousands of people die around her in battle. What right did they have to sacrifice the lives of so many for their personal ambitions and revenge? Now, she wondered: if she could not condone what Chun'er did in the name of vengeance, how could she still support Yan Xun?

Chu Qiao did not regret for one moment her decision to stay in Hong Chuan, fighting until her last breath to defend the people of the city. Finding out that Yan Xun had chosen to conquer Chang'an at the expense of his own people had broken her heart. Perhaps she had grown soft—too soft to continue following Yan Xun, too soft to see suffering as necessary, _acceptable_ in war. Or was it that she had grown too hard to accept the excuses and rationalizations?

 _Yanbei was never my hometown, but it has always been my dream. Even if you don't want it anymore, I still do! You abandoned it, but I'll protect it._

She had flung those words in Zhong Yu's face, when she should have said them to Yan Xun instead. Maybe it was for the better for her to die here, so she didn't have to see the bitter disappointment in his eyes when she told him she could no longer condone his actions. It was only that she felt so alone in this moment, worlds apart from Yan Xun in mind, heart, and body.

Worlds apart, too, from the one person her heart longed for despite how impossible she knew it to be. _If I said I wanted to share your dream, would you believe it?_

It was too late. After evading death so many times, after surviving all that fate had thrown at her, Chu Qiao at last surrendered, welcoming it. She hoped that at least it would at least give a measure of peace to the ravaged heart of the princess before her.

As she slipped into unconsciousness with death looming near, her only regret was that her dream of freedom in Yanbei had turned into such a nightmare.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

His blood was still roaring in his ears when Yuwen Yue watched from afar as Yan Xun carried Xing'er off the bloody battlefield. Relief warred with jealousy until his stomach was tied in knots. Even now his palms were clammy with sweat and the black cloth he had tied over the lower half of his face to conceal his identity felt suffocating.

He had been so close to losing her. If he had acted even one moment later, if his aim hadn't been true and if Chun'er hadn't lost her grip on the sword, it would have been all over. It pained him to think that Xing'er would wake up and thank Yan Xun for saving her life, but in the end, what did it matter if she was in his arms or Yan Xun's, so long as she was safe?

He hadn't wanted to hurt Chun'er, but nor would he let the desperate princess try to kill Chu Qiao in order to vent her anger at Yan Xun. It pained him to see Chun'er like this, little more than the ghost of the person he had once known so well. Guilt rose at the thought of what had driven her to such extremes.

Those childhood days when he, Yan Xun, Yuan Song, and Yuan Chun had spent idle hours together now seemed unreal, as if they were figments of his imagination rather than memories. Maybe it was because the peace they had enjoyed then now seemed like a lie. Were the terrible things that had happened since then just karmic justice for their careless disregard of others' lives?

Just as he had failed Yan Xun, he had failed Chun'er as well. He should not have called off the assassination attempt on Yan Xun. A quick death was the most merciless thing that could be given to a rabid wolf. But Yuwen Yue's honor conflicted with his new ethics. Ordering the assassination of his former best friend was a betrayal beyond the pale, but it had the potential to save countless lives on both sides.

Yuwen Yue still refused to resort to assassination. He just wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't stomach doing such a cowardly, despicable thing or if it was because he knew it still wouldn't end the conflict. The whole mess had spiraled out of Yan Xun's control now, whether he recognized it or not. The way he had turned his men back to Hong Chuan, after coming to the doorsteps of Chang'an—it was a matter of when, not if, his generals would rebel and seek to dispose of him, just as he had ruthlessly disposed of the tribal leaders who did not support his claim to Yanbei.

How was it that the higher Yuwen Yue climbed in rank and prestige, it seemed like the more powerless he was to protect those he wanted to protect? To his shame, he had abandoned his troops as they defended Chang'an against Yan Xun's men, all so that he could rush to Hong Chuan. Others might say that he was no better than Yan Xun in this regard, forsaking his duty and loyalty to the empire all for a woman.

Even now, his loyalties were built on a crumbling foundation. After so many years of fighting at the contested border and seeing the poor and downtrodden on both sides, he was under no more illusions. The innocent people of both Wei and Yanbei didn't care about the power struggles of those who lived impossibly high above them. Whether they traded one Duke for another, or a Wei Emperor for a Yanbei King, their lives were filled with misery either way. What they cared about was lasting peace—the kind of peace that could grow into prosperity. What they cared about was whether they would have enough food for the winter, whether their children would get a chance to grow up, whether the laws were just and justice served.

Yuwen Yue longed to confront Yan Xun face to face. _Because of the wrongs that have been done to you, do you think it justifies the wrongs you do to others?_ By his estimation, close to eight thousand had died in Hong Chuan alone, countless thousands more as Yan Xun had forced his way across the country right to the gates of Chang'an. The Black Eagle Army had killed, looted, and burned. Men under Yan Xun's direct command had raped and left an army of orphans behind, as well as a new generation of bastards. Every atrocity that the Wei had committed when Yanbei had fallen had been returned twofold.

Was this justice?

"What is his ultimate goal?" Yuwen Yue asked softly to the quiet spirits of the air around him. "Xing'er, do you ever wonder what will be enough?"

She might have once convinced herself that Yan Xun's actions were for the greater good, but she was too intelligent to turn a blind eye to the truth for long. Would her gratitude to him for coming back to Hong Chuan outweigh her anger over his betrayal in the first place?

Even if she hardened her heart against all—both Wei and Yanbei—who had died during Yan Xun's campaign to take Chang'an, how would she react to know that he had turned back at the last moment for her? For a single person, Yan Xun had rendered all his soldiers' sacrifices in vain. Such was the value he put on _their_ lives and now that it had been made clear, his men would revolt sooner or later.

The young wolf of Yanbei had not an ounce of empathy for Chun'er, yet they were essentially the same: both were so self-centered that they thought everyone else's pain and suffering couldn't compare to their own. Whether prince of Yanbei or princess of Wei, both left trails of devastation like children lashing out blindly.

Xing'er, like so many others, was merely caught in the wake of the storm they created.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

The night was nearly pitch black, the new moon only the tiniest white sliver in the sky, but her mission had been a success. It had taken nearly three days in total. Chu Qiao was hurrying back, her heart full of pride but her small footsteps as silent as a ghost's, when the sound of voices within the room made her hesitate outside.

Her curiosity overcame her and she stopped near the window, close enough to make out the words but far enough that her shadow couldn't be seen from within. While late night visitors weren't too unusual in their line of work, who could be visiting the Master of the Feng Yun Order and the leader of the Han Shan Alliance?

"Lady, you must be wary," a man's voice was saying. Though he spoke softly, it seemed like the continuation of an argument. "How many attacks have there been in the last few days? You are in grave danger."

Her mother scoffed sharply. "Tell me something I don't know. When have I not been in grave danger? They are simply afraid that we are close to achieving our goal. When the shutters are opened and the bright light of day shines down, the cockroaches scatter."

"If not for the Duke's support, the tyrant would have fallen ages ago," muttered the man with a measure of aggravation. Chu Qiao quickly identified that voice. Master Zuo Baocang, not a member of the Feng Yun Order but an ally, one that her mother had trusted enough to allow around her precious heir. He procured weapons for them and had known Luo He for years. "And now it has come to this."

"That kind of loyalty cannot be bought or broken," was the cool reply from her mother. "Yan Shicheng has been serving that man since he was the Crown Prince of Great Wei. After all, he was only seventeen the first time he nearly died to save Yuan Zhengde."

While Chu Qiao had started listening in the middle of the conversation, she knew the great powers being mentioned so casually by name, rather than title. Yan Shicheng, Duke of Yanbei. Yuan Zhengde, current Emperor of the Wei. Sworn allies, once brothers in arms.

"May the gods strike down that idiot and fool for his loyalty," cursed Master Zuo. "It is a pity that the rebellion from the King of Chang Lan failed despite the resources we gave them."

"Yan and Wei will remain tied together until that alliance is ended. As long as Yuan Zhengde sits on the imperial throne, our efforts will be for nothing."

Master Zuo spoke again, his words tinged with bitterness. "Yet we cannot move against Yan Shicheng. He is weak, but beloved by the people."

Her mother's voice was gelid. "One day soon enough, he will discover that he has served a snake and feel its poisoned bite when it turns on him. But whether or not Yan Shicheng comes to that realization, our aim must be to end Yuan Zhengde. His ambition is limitless, matched only by his inability to care for the welfare of his people. He keeps the power concentrated in the few families and builds his rotten empire on the backs of slaves. The people starve and even the nobles grow disgruntled with their empty coffers, but are appeased by the income from the slave markets. All the while, it is the common folk who suffer."

It was Master Zuo's turn to laugh. "You know my devotion to your cause, but who is the one describing the obvious now? And yet, Lady, under these circumstances, perhaps you should send the little one away for now?"

Only thorough training prevented Chu Qiao from gasping with surprise. She stiffened outside the room, however, straining to hear the next words. Who else could they be talking about but her?

"Chu Qiao. You've been lingering there too long," stated the leader of the Feng Yun Order. It was easier not to think of that icy voice as her mother's. "Come in."

With no other choice, Chu Qiao opened the door and slunk in like a shadow, all her confidence from the mission disappearing now that she had been so easily caught. At least Master Zuo's face reflected surprise at her appearance.

"You've heard enough," Luo He said. "Tell me, who has been sending assassins here in foolish hopes that one might get lucky? And where do these assassins come from?"

"The assassins are from the Afterlife Camp," Chu Qiao answered immediately without second-guessing herself. "As for who might know about your objective to kill the Wei Emperor and wish to stop it—there could be many suspects. But when it concerns the matter of slavery, most likely it is someone from Southern Liang. The Liang state depends on the slave trade for labor."

Luo He gave no indication of whether she was pleased or displeased with this analysis. She merely fiddled with the wooden bead pendant that she always wore, though that small movement in of itself told Chu Qiao that she was tense. "There will be many changes to come over the next year. Remember your training. You must never forget what I've taught you."

"Yes, Mother," Chu Qiao answered meekly. It was very unlike Luo He to speak so vaguely. She was not a woman who usually tolerated unnecessary words. Despite her calm façade, Chu Qiao could tell that she was concerned, but about what? Feng Yun Order had only become more powerful over the last few years, the number of its skilled agents growing as her mother became the leader of the Hanshan Alliance of the Twelve Elite Camps. Her supreme position in the realm of the jianghu was secure. Perhaps she was worried about a betrayal from within?

"If all goes to plan, kingdoms will rise and fall and you will inherit a world better than the one you were born into." Her mother's eyes were dark and troubled. Luo He reached out to brush a lock of hair back from Chu Qiao's forehead. Her daughter held her breath at this small, unexpected tenderness.

"If not, then the rest will be up to you."

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

The courtyard of one of the largest manors in Hong Chuan was tranquil, spared by the touch of the war that had come to the city. Looking at the leaves on the trees gently swaying in the wind, it was almost as she existed in a different reality than the people outside of the manor. Of course, this was once the residence of a rich nobleman, so it was no surprise that it was so well insulated from the grief in the streets just outside.

It had been nearly a week since Chu Qiao had woken up, rescued once again from death's doorstep, and yet she had still not seen Yan Xun yet. The long hours she had spent in bed while recovering gave her too much time to think, but part of her was glad to put off the confrontation. Each time she was severely injured, the dreams and nightmares that followed seemed to unlock pieces of her memories. Along with what she had seen in that dream state when that shopkeeper Zuo had tried to cure her amnesia, Chu Qiao was beginning to piece together a clearer picture of her childhood and former life.

She wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge or if she was happier for it. For so many years now, she had devoted her life to Yan Xun, first to comfort him after the execution of his family and devastation of his country, and then to help him rise again. She had almost forgotten her other motivation for coming to Yanbei: to seek out the mysterious Mr. Wu and discover her own identity.

Other than reclaiming her name, Chu Qiao had all but given up on her past. Though she had seen flashes of it before, she had no actual feelings associated with the events; it was like watching a stranger's life. She had also rationalized it to herself. What did her past matter at all, when her present was already filled with such chaotic conflicts?

But this time was different. All of her memories thus far had been hazy at best, but this one was crystal clear. Most unsettling of all, for the first time, it felt as if _she_ had actually lived it. Even now, she missed her mother with a fierce, desperate longing. She was angry that Luo He had been betrayed, that someone had plotted out a trap to kill both mother and daughter, because both threatened the order of the world.

It was almost funny now that she knew the truth. Her mother had died because she had been trying to free the slaves and to bring peace to the land, never knowing that her own daughter would one day end up as a slave herself. Had it really been so long ago that Chu Qiao had ran for her life, chased by starving wolves, all as a mere "hunting game" amusement to the rich young lords of Great Wei? Even Yan Xun had been there that day.

She had sworn to avenge her curly haired friend. It was sickening now to realize how easily she had adopted the mentality of the nobility, despite her own experience with slavery. So much blood had been shed because of the murders of Yan Xun's family. But was the life of a nameless curly haired slave really worth so little in comparison, that there was no one to remember her or be angry for _her_ sake? And what of her sister and brother from the family that had adopted her? She was ashamed to realize that even in her own mind, she had let the deaths of Yan Xun's family _mean_ more, be _worth_ more—and why was that so? Was it simply because they were from the ruling class?

Chu Qiao had congratulated herself on taking her revenge, but she had also given up so easily. Though Yuwen Yue had changed his ways and released all of his slaves, what of all the other noble households in Wei? She could pretend that she fought in Yanbei's army because she wished to reform the empire, but she couldn't lie to herself. She had merely been caught up in Yan Xun's dreams of revenge.

"A Chu! What are you doing?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Chu Qiao glanced around to see Zhong Yu standing in front of her. Only now did she realize that she was breathing heavily, one hand clutching at the side of her ribs, which throbbed with pain. Her skin was even clammy with sweat, but she hadn't noticed, so troubled were her thoughts.

"Sit down before you faint! Why are you even up and about?" scolded Zhong Yu, ushering her to a nearby bench. "You need to stop pushing yourself so hard."

"I just needed some fresh air," Chu Qiao said in a weak excuse. "I should be out there helping, anyway." Just a few days ago, she had taken a walk around the city with Zhong Yu and had seen the consequences of the battle firsthand.

Zhong Yu was a perceptive woman and could see that something was upsetting her friend, but they had already spoken about Yan Xun when Chu Qiao had first woken up, so she knew it would do no good to talk about it again. But the subject that Chu Qiao raised instead was just as problematic.

"Miss Yu, you know Mr. Wu well. Has he ever mentioned the name Luo He?"

"A Chu, I'm sorry. I've never heard him speak of such a person. If he had, I would tell you. But he has also been…involved in much, and long ago swore me to secrecy."

Chu Qiao had suspected as much, which is why she had never ventured to ask how the two had ever met. All she knew was that their paths had crossed at some point, probably because of Zhong Yu's intelligence activities, and they had fallen in love.

"Would he be willing to tell me in person?" Chu Qiao mused. "Miss Yu, I lost my memories a long time ago. From what little I've recovered of them, I know that my mother wanted me to find Mr. Wu."

"So Luo He is your mother's name?" Zhong Yu seemed to debate something with herself before continuing. "Mr. Wu has never mentioned her, but Ihave heard of her before. I know she was the leader of one of the most powerful spy agencies ever created, one that was heavily involved in the politics between Wei, Yan, and Liang. But someone betrayed her and… I suppose you already know, but she was killed years ago."

Chu Qiao nodded. "Before I saw her for the last time, she sent me to a man surnamed Jing, and I became part of their family for a while. Then my mother was captured and about to be executed, so I went to rescue her. It was a trap set up for me. I…I fought this masked man, I don't know who, but I lost."

"Is that how you lost your memories?"

"I think that came later, but I'm not sure," admitted Chu Qiao. "I don't remember how I survived or how I ended up as a slave in the Yuwen household. I regard Xiao Qi and Xiao Ba as my sisters, but we share no blood."

Zhong Yu's delicate brows had come together in a frown. "A Chu, it's best if you keep this to yourself for now. If anyone should learn of your real identity, it could be dangerous to you. If Luo He was your mother, you will have inherited her many enemies."

"I know. I haven't…cared about it until now." Chu Qiao took a breath to steady herself. "I told myself that what's past is past, what's the use of me dwelling on it? But things that I remembered recently make me think it's important—to me, and to what we want to achieve in Yanbei.

Her ambiguous explanation was met with a quizzical look, but Zhong Yu accepted her judgment. "If you think it will help us find peace in Yanbei, I will do my best to help you."

"Can you see if Mr. Wu is willing to see me, Miss Yu?"

"I will ask," the other woman promised. "But, A Chu, I actually came to tell you that you will meet Yan Xun tomorrow."

"Why doesn't he just come to me now?" Seeing the expression on Zhong Yu's face, Chu Qiao began to get a bad feeling.

"You won't see him in private. He's ordered you, General Cheng Yuan, General Sun He, and other witnesses to come before him and explain exactly what happened here in Hong Chuan."

Chu Qiao stared at her, speechless. She had been waiting all this time to speak to Yan Xun, and yet this was how he had decided he would hear her out?

"I know you have questions for him too," Zhong Yu said gently. "But, A Chu, he's doing his best to handle a difficult situation."

Chu Qiao managed a nod of thanks for the warning, but it seemed like the rift between her and Yan Xun would only continue to widen and deepen.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Her footsteps echoed angrily as she left without another word to Yan Xun. Chu Qiao should have been shocked at Sun He's suicide, but instead, her heart was left seething with thwarted rage. How convenient a means to evade justice! How coincidental, for Sun He to fall on his sword while claiming all the blame for what had happened in Hong Chuan, leaving Cheng Yuan untouchable. How perfect the timing, to turn what should have been an execution into an act of martyrdom.

Did Yan Xun truly think that Sun He's death meant _anything_ to her, after she had watched Feng Mian murdered in cold blood all for warning her of a traitorous ambush? She had to give Cheng Yuan credit; he had devised a good show, but using Sun He's life shouldn't have been an excuse to drop the matter altogether, not when they were responsible for thousands and thousands of deaths.

It hadn't escaped her notice that Yan Xun had been content to sit back and let the drama play out. That he hadn't answered her, even when she had asked him point blank: _Do you believe him?_

Chu Qiao gazed unseeingly out across the calm lake waters, hearing the melancholy notes from Yan Xun's reed flute. She hated herself in this moment, caught between gratitude that he had come back for her, and loathing that he had. So many men had sacrificed their lives for his campaign to take Chang'an, only for him to stop short—for _her_.

How long had things been so wrong between them? She could no longer talk to Yan Xun freely, much less confide in him. His devotion to her was indisputable, but was it really to _her_ or his idea of her—the her that had supported him unquestioningly, that would never have doubted him? In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if Yan Xun had let Cheng Yuan go without a word because the general had been covering up for his own orders to abandon Yanbei in order to seize Chang'an and the seat of power in Wei. Yan Xun knew her too well to not realize how she would have never condoned such a strategy.

Even in war, one must not abandon all conscience. Zhong Yu had all but confirmed that Yan Xun planned to sacrifice Hong Chuan. After all, he had sent her to save Chu Qiao by getting her out of the city, everyone else be damned.

She feared that he was no longer even driven by desire for justice, or even revenge. He had said he wanted to give her the world. Chu Qiao had thought he had been just expressing his wish to share with her what they _both_ dreamed of—a free and equal world. In _Yanbei_. Had Yan Xun really continued on and seized Chang'an, what were his plans? Would he crown himself emperor of Wei after killing the rest of the Yuan line?

 _Yan Xun_ , she wished she could tell him. _I never wanted to be empress of the world. I never wanted titles, or power, or an empire. All I wanted was for you to find peace. I wanted your heart to be soothed, for the people to prosper again, for the land to grow again after so much loss._

She had failed him so badly. The notes of Yan Xun's flute continued to drift across the lake to her. He was close by, but still somehow so far away. There were so many secrets separating them now, so many things they left unsaid, because neither was ready for the confrontation that was brewing between them. Her heart ached as if he were wringing the mournful sounds from it, rather than the flute.

Soon, she thought, they might truly be worlds apart.

* * *

 **FIN**

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N: Please review and let me know your thoughts!** Thank you, thank you, thank you all for sticking with me despite the months between updates. Without your constant encouragement and little reviews to remind me to keep writing, this story would not be here right now. I hope you're looking forward to the next few parts and beyond—I promise to take good care of our beloved XingYue!


	11. The North Wind Blows Colder

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

September 23, 2018

 **Author's Note** : Thank you to anyone who is here and still reading this, despite the long time between updates. I try my best to write more quickly but real life responsibilities have a way of taking up too much time. Thank you so much for your patience and support.

"The North Wind Blows Colder" corresponds with uncut episodes 53-54, but I am making some major changes to the storyline and reordered/rewrote some scenes from the drama, as you might expect. In my version, Chu Qiao doesn't make the choice to stay with Yan Xun out of some hope that she can "wake" him up from his dark plans; aka she doesn't choose Yuwen Yue only at the last resort! (Can you tell I'm still really mad about that?) Unfortunately some of it is still a rehash of what happened, but whenever that happens, I do my best to at least show it from a different perspective than what was done in the show and to give more depth to it. Please bear with me while I set everything up for Part 2.

"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others." - Nelson Mandela

* * *

 **The North Wind Blows Colder**

* * *

Yuwen Yue struggled to piece together a whole picture from the fragments of information that his spies brought him. It was never an easy task to begin with even when he had all the archives of the Eyes of God at his disposal, but now it was almost impossible. He had eyes and ears everywhere, but individually, the spies were as useless as pawns on the chessboard. It was up to him to make sense of it all, to see the strategies that were slowly unfolding before him and come up with strategies of his own to counter them.

At least he had foiled Cheng Yuan's attempt to assassinate Yuan Song. After finding out about how the Yanbei general had betrayed Chu Qiao and nearly caused her death, Yuwen Yue had jumped at the chance to eliminate him for once and for all. Cheng Yuan had been lucky to get away with only a few arrows in his thigh. The damned man seemed to have as many lives as a cat—or perhaps it was less about luck and more about a well-honed sense of cowardice built on saving his own skin.

The candlelight flickered as Yuwen Yue rubbed his hand across tired eyes. He hadn't slept well ever since he had saved Xing'er from Chun'er and had seen her carried off by Yan Xun. Though to be honest, he hadn't slept well before that either. The stress and exhaustion would catch up with him one day, but until then, a war was already being fought: a war between hidden players, a war of minds. Every bit of information had to be assessed for accuracy and relevancy. Some of the news that reached him could be discarded as rumors, some of it arrived to him much too late, and some seemed insignificant but had been reported anyway for fear that something would be missed.

It was a very delicate balance he was trying to find: he was sabotaging his own side while simultaneously trying to cripple the Yanbei forces. He had sent Yue Jiu and Meng Feng to secretly poison the leading Wei general, who had made a hasty retreat back to Chang'an due to his "incurable" illness. Meanwhile, he also rebuilt the fortifications to the Meilin border. Both of these moves would buy them some time on the Wei side, but he had less control over what was unfolding in Hong Chuan with Yan Xun.

"Young Master, some new reports have come in," Yue Qi announced, entering the tent and making his way over with his customary alacrity before giving a short bow. "Someone wealthy and powerful has entered Hong Chuan, bringing with him an entire shipload of food supplies."

"So Yan Xun's army stock will be replenished." Yuwen Yue could feel the beginnings of another headache. "What else do we know about this man?"

Yue Qi shook his head in discouragement. "Not much. Only that according to the servants, he comes from Da Liang. One servant thinks he overheard that the man is a cripple, but I couldn't get confirmation on it. No one was even able to get a name. He asked to meet with Yan Xun, but Yan Xun is in Lan City. He may have met with Cheng Yuan instead."

"A noble from Da Liang," Yuwen Yue mused. "Of course. They benefit the most from fanning the flames of war. They buy slaves from Wei and sell supplies to Yan, happily playing both sides while they get ever richer."

"What do you want to do?"

"I will have Meng Feng infiltrate the city in order to destroy their food supplies. That should set them back for a little while. All we can do right now is delay the fighting. Yue Qi, call everyone together right now. We must act fast."

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Chu Qiao stared at the little unrolled scrap before her, a message that had been cleverly and quickly passed from hand to hand, from spy to the next, at least until she had intercepted it. Five people were locked up now as she debated what to do with the message that had clearly been on its way back to Yuwen Yue.

In some ways, Chu Qiao couldn't help but admire what he was trying to do. Destroying their provisions would tie the Yanbei troops to Hong Chuan, in effect freezing the war, and all without shedding any blood on either side. It was a good plan—no, it was a great plan.

She had thought of it as well.

But Chu Qiao now understood the Yanbei generals better than Yuwen Yue. She had also seen the poor and hungry in Hong Chuan. The generals had been willing to sacrifice the entire city simply as a distraction to the Wei army; their ambition couldn't be reined in so easily. A shortage of rations wouldn't stop Cheng Yuan and the others from sending the soldiers back out to fight their way to Chang'an.

The truth was, whatever the army lacked would just be taken from the people of the city, and they already had lost too much. They had already been starving from the siege. If Yuwen Yue succeeded, many of the ordinary citizens would die, and no doubt Cheng Yuan would call them patriots and say that they were necessary losses for the defense of their homeland. He would claim that they were more victims of the Wei, even as _he_ took their food to feed the soldiers.

After what she had seen, Chu Qiao couldn't be sure that Yan Xun wouldn't just go along with that course of action. She had lost too much power in the army to have any influence. What reputation she had built for herself by staying to defend the city had vanished when the returning soldiers found out that _she_ was the reason why Yan Xun had turned them back at the gates of Chang'an. Yan Xun himself didn't listen to her any more, and she still didn't know how she could even face him after everything that had happened.

She was on dangerous ground as it was. She couldn't let Yuwen Yue's spies destroy the supplies, but neither did she want them killed.

As she looked down at the characters on the message before her, an idea began to form.

Carefully, ever so carefully, she copied out a new message, one that would lure Yuwen Yue's saboteurs to an ambush that she would arrange herself, with the only soldiers she still trusted—the Xiuli troops.

Her heart squeezed uncomfortably as she watched the black ink dry. If there was one thing she could always rely on, it was Yuwen Yue's intelligence and attention to detail. She knew the way he thought and she knew the moves he would make because he had taught her everything.

Yuwen Yue had even taught her how to write.

It was as if she could feel his hand right now, his warm fingers gently correcting the way she gripped the brush, showing her just how far the tip should be dipped into the ink. It had once been her beautiful calligraphy that had won her a place in his bedchamber and her silver bells. Gifted with a nearly perfect memory, she had learned quickly by watching others, and most of all him.

She used to write this character carelessly, waiting for him to reprove her. But he never did, and she didn't know why. All she knew was that it wasn't because it had slipped his notice. He observed her too carefully for that. It was as if he didn't _want_ to correct her, and that was a strange kind of disappointment for her too, as if he didn't care enough.

How fitting that this little thing, this intimate detail, would serve such a great purpose now.

She was betraying Yan Xun with every stroke of her brush. She should be ruthlessly eliminating every last one of Yuwen Yue's spies, not sparing them. But she thought of Yue Qi, and of all his loyal Yue guards, and she couldn't bear to think of them dying for this.

Her eyes glittered as she handed over the finished message to be delivered back to Yuwen Yue. Would he think he had caught her careless mistake? Or would he recognize her fake message for _exactly_ what it was meant to be? Either way, it didn't matter, because it would achieve what she wanted. Whether or not he understood her intentions behind it, he would recognize that she, not his spy, had written the message. It was proof that something had gone wrong, so he would surely pull his people out before they got killed.

Of course, the spies they had already caught and were now holding in the jail would be dead by morning if Cheng Yuan had his way. He would be furious that she had earned credit for foiling Yuwen Yue's plans. Even if the ambush failed—and she had made sure that it would—she had still protected their supplies. Who could argue with that success?

Chu Qiao swallowed hard. She had already gone this far to subvert Yan Xun's cause. Part of her was appalled at what she had done, yet the other part held onto the slim hope that her actions would somehow lead to a better path for them all. But if she got caught setting Yuwen Yue's spies free, there were no excuses she could make. It was treason.

She could almost hear Cheng Yuan telling Yan Xun that she was weak, that she would be Yanbei's downfall. In his eyes and in the eyes of many of Yan Xun's soldiers, she was a mere woman and therefore had no stomach for war.

A part of her feared that it was true. She was tired of bloodshed. Chu Qiao had once wholeheartedly believed that violence was a necessary part of change, that war was simply the price for reform and peace.

Her greatest regret was not realizing until too late that Yan Xun had and would continue to choose bloody revenge over the welfare of his people. His idea of leadership was based all on his right to rule, rather than his _responsibility_ to rule. It took far too long for her to realize that Yan Xun didn't care about what he could do for the people of Yanbei, only what the people of Yanbei could do for him—namely, to use them for his ambitions of deposing the Emperor of Wei and taking that seat of power for himself.

The trust between them was too broken to be repaired. Once, a lifetime ago, she had cried because she had thought Yuwen Yue had been playing her all along. But the trust that she had thought had broken back then had been solely due to secrets and misunderstandings. With Yan Xun it was the exact opposite: her trust in him had broken because she finally understood.

Resolve crystalized in her heart. Before the night was done, she knew that she would find a way to spare five more lives.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

"Chu Qiao. So I finally meet the missing daughter of Luo He," Wu Daoya said to her in lieu of an actual greeting. He looked serene but a little remote and it was hard to decipher his expression. Zhong Yu had made good on her promise and arranged a private meeting between them, though Chu Qiao had almost forsaken it altogether after her last stressful encounter with Yan Xun—when he had sworn that he would believe anything she said and she had told him she had nothing to do with the spies that had escaped.

"I only recently found out who I am," Chu Qiao said after a moment. Mr. Wu waited patiently for her to take the lead, but she had so many questions and hardly knew where to begin. From their high vantage point on a cliff, she could see the vast wilderness of the Yanbei steppes in the distance. It was beautiful and yet lonely.

He finally broke the silence with a shockingly straightforward question. "Are you thinking of revenge now that you know about your mother's death?"

"No," Chu Qiao answered, startled. But then as feelings of guilt flooded her over her instinctive reply, she hesitated. "Well, I don't…I don't remember all of it. I know we were betrayed and she sent me into hiding with the Jing family. She left me a message telling me to go to Yanbei to find you."

"I heard about you from Zhong Yu during the years that she spent with you and Yan Xun under house arrest in the Oriole Courtyard, but I didn't think you were the same girl I had searched for all those years ago. That was my oversight. But seeing you in person, the resemblance is unmistakable, even without all the other signs." Mr. Wu sighed, turning to look away from her. "I know you have amnesia, so it's easier if you tell me what you remember first, before I explain everything to you."

She didn't have that much to tell him, but Chu Qiao began slowly, still trying to process the feelings that her memories evoked in her. There was already so much fear, love, and loss. Part of her was afraid to find out the rest and another part of her still insisted that it was better to let the past remain the past. The memories she was beginning to recover were painful ones and she already had more than she could handle.

When she finished, Mr. Wu shook his head in something like incredulity or sorrow. "The gods surely have shaped your fate in ways that only they understand. For the daughter of Luo He to end up as a slave in the Yuwen household, personally serving the scion of the Yuwen family himself—for Yuwen Yue to have been the one to teach _you_ how to fight and to turn you into a spy—what a sad joke this all is. Perhaps this is a kind of revenge from our descendants for the wrongs you've inherited from past generations. Yuwen Yue's actions, both those you know of and those you don't, certainly speak of his devotion to you."

Intensely uncomfortable, Chu Qiao spoke rather sharply. "I did not meet with you to discuss Yuwen Yue. I—"

"It is all related," Wu Daoya interrupted. "You know that I was the first advisor to the Duke of Yanbei, Yan Shicheng. It was in that role that I knew your mother. Luo He was a powerful woman, the holder of the Wind and Cloud Decree and the leader of the _jianghu_ spies. She believed that she had the responsibility to use that power and influence to abolish slavery, even though it was an endemic system that involved all three kingdoms: Yan, Liang, and Wei."

"How was Yanbei involved? Yan Xun told me that this land has been free for a long time. There are no slaves here."

Wu Daoya gave her a stern look and Chu Qiao gave a quick apologetic nod to show that she would stop interrupting. "Yes, Yanbei was the land of the free. That was why Luo He established her power here, though this brought her into conflict with the Duke. Yan Shicheng was a bosom friend of Yuan Zhengde, then just the Crown Prince of Wei. They grew up together, they fought many battles together, and when Yuan Zhengde became Emperor of Wei, Yan Shicheng swore his undying loyalty to Wei, even thought some of his own tribes wanted him to rebel and crown himself an independent king of Yanbei."

Seeing the question in Chu Qiao's eyes, Wu Daoya answered it before she could speak up. "Yanbei didn't support slavery. But Yan Shicheng, because of his loyalty to Yuan Zhengde, did nothing to stop it, either. Slavery is a cornerstone of both the western Wei and southern Liang's economies: the Wei supplied most of the slaves from their own citizens, while Da Liang exchanged important resources for those slaves to use as human labor in all their farms and fields. There was a mutual dependency but the slave trade grew so important that it upset the balance between the three states.

"Simply put, the Wei were running out of slaves to keep up with the demand from Southern Liang. The leaders of Southern Liang realized that if they could break the alliance between Yan and Wei, if they could provoke a war so Wei would overpower Yanbei, they could potentially have a huge new source of slaves—especially if in the resulting chaos, Southern Liang came out on top of both Wei and Yan. So that was the situation that started it all."

"I remember now that my mother raised me for this purpose," Chu Qiao murmured. "But even before I remembered, I'd resolved to fight against slavery in any way that I could. I killed three generations of the Yuwen family because of _my_ vengeance, not hers. I am not my mother and I did not inherit her ambition; I developed my own when I became a slave and saw how slaves suffered. How human life could be thrown away like nothing more than some spoiled vegetables."

Wu Daoya was silent for a moment. "Your mother gave her life for that cause. Whether it was the right thing to do, I cannot say. But she believed in her principles and stood by them all the way to the end."

"How exactly did she die? Before I fell into the river and lost my memories, I tried to go rescue her. But the woman in the prison wasn't her, and then when I was trapped, another woman pretended to be me and fought with all the guards."

"Yes, that woman was Xia Chong, an assassin from the Afterlife Camp."

"The Afterlife Camp!" Chu Qiao exclaimed before she could stop herself. The same group of spies that Yuwen Yue had infiltrated and taken over in order to cure her of the poison? Of course, they would have owed their loyalty to Luo He back then, rather than being assassins for hire.

"Da Liang sent several assassins after you and your mother, but none succeeded," Mr. Wu explained. "It was someone by her side, someone she trusted, who betrayed her and killed her. They used both Yuwen Hao from the Wei state's Eyes of God and Yinxin from the Secret Repository of the Da Liang state in order to kill her. When I found out, I tried my best to help. It was not enough."

He told her about how he had sent the Viper and the Trailokya, two of the most feared jianghu heavyweights, to rescue Luo He. By the time they tracked her down, she was dead—but they found her daughter still alive. Chu Qiao could feel the bits of memory jarring loose as she listened to Mr. Wu's almost hypnotically smooth voice. Though the names were unfamiliar to her, she remembered the men and women involved, even the burst of power she had unleased in order to kill Yuwen Hao just before she fell into the Yellow River and lost her memories.

"So who was it?" Fill with too much agitated energy and feeling like she was unable to match Mr. Wu's calm demeanor, Chu Qiao paced in front of him. "Who was the man who betrayed my mother and sent her to her death?"

Wu Daoya looked at her somberly. "That is where the past and the present intersect, Miss Chu. I received word yesterday that Zuo Baochang is dead."

"Master Zuo?" She had barely thought of the old shopkeeper from so long ago, but he had been the first to recognize her and had tried to help her unlock her memories. Her encounter with him was the reason she had found the hidden message her mother had left for her in the wooden bead on her bracelet. But before this, his greatest help to her was providing her the flying device she used to escape Qing Shan Yuan. How had he been mixed up in all of this?

"Yes. The poor old fool was a Yanbei spy and he had been protecting you in whatever way he could. Someone finally got to him. They didn't know that he'd helped a poor street urchin who had seen the whole thing though, and from that boy's description, I suspect I know who the traitor is: Dong Fang Ji."

The name meant nothing at all to Chu Qiao and she struggled to accept that for a moment. Mr. Wu seemed to have been waiting for her reaction, but she had none to give. "I only remember one thing about the man in black who tried to kill me after luring me to the prison to rescue my mother. He was wearing a thick jade ring."

At that, Wu Daoya let out a soft curse that had her hairs standing on end. The composed man stared intently at her. "Your mother may be resting in her grave, but her enemies are still involved in this even now. Dong Fang Ji was Yan Shicheng's military strategist but also a spy from the Han Shan alliance. Your mother trusted him deeply because…well, that is a story for another time. What you need to know is that Dong Fang Ji must currently be working with Zhan Ziyu, the top advisor in Da Liang. He has always been very ambitious. It appears that Yan Xun has been skillfully used by them."

Chu Qiao broke out in a cold sweat. "What do you mean? How can that be true?"

"Four years ago, a series of messages were intercepted by spies from the Eyes of God. They contained proof that the Duke of Yanbei was planning to take up arms and rise up in rebellion against the Wei Emperor. This provoked the Emperor into ordering the execution of the entire family and lead directly to the events of that terrible day at the Jiuyou Tai. I suspect that Dong Fang Ji had secretly sold out Yanbei by passing along information to Zhan Ziyu from Da Liang."

Her head spun with all the new information that Wu Daoya was giving her. Chu Qiao swallowed hard, feeling her stomach lurch sickeningly. Her mind latched on to one phrase: the events of Jiuyou Tai. The very day that Yan Xun's mother had committed suicide in front of him after being forced to identify the heads of her husband, sons, and daughters. Luo He's death years ago was somehow connected to the events that had broken Yan Xun and sent him spiraling down his dark path of despair and revenge? She was afraid to ask but needed to anyway. "Are you…are you saying that Yan Xun's father truly _was_ going to rebel?"

That would…that would change _everything_ , and nothing. What if everything she and Yan Xun had believed in were a lie?

"I won't lie to you, Miss Chu. After Luo He's death, I distanced myself from Yan Shicheng and all the politics between Yan, Wei, and Liang. I retreated from the _jianghu_ as much as I could." Wu Daoya gazed out at the distant steppes rather than look at her, but his voice was burdened by regret. "You accused me earlier of not being present when the Duke was killed, of being nowhere to be found when Yan Xun escaped from Chang'an and came back to claim Yanbei. You are right; I wasn't there. It wasn't until Yan Xun was locked up in the Oriole Courtyard that I met Zhong Yu and helped devise a plan for him to escape. I couldn't leave the son of my old friend like that, whether or not his father was guilty of treason as claimed."

"But all that we suffered…" Chu Qiao felt like she would cry from shock and disbelief. She remembered those endless nights in prison she had tended to Yan Xun, screaming at him to not give up, telling him to live so he could take his revenge on those who had did this to him. She remembered his finger being sliced off as "payment" when he had defended her. She remembered those first few months in the Oriole Courtyard, constantly alert for assassins, so starved that they were tempted even by food they knew was poisoned, surviving only by sheer strength of will and stubbornness.

Had Yan Xun's father actually brought all this on his family and on his own son? Yan Xun had been certain that his father was wrongfully accused. Afterall, Yan Shicheng's loyalty in the past had been proven over and over again. But Yan Xun had been the crown prince of his royal family, a prince that had been held hostage in Chang'an since he was but ten years old. How much could have changed in the years that had passed? Could Yan Shicheng have fallen prey to Da Liang's ambitions and persuasions? Look at how even Crown Prince Xiao Ce had had to disguise himself, simply to survive in his own court of snakes…

"Chu Qiao, we may never know the truth of Yan Shicheng's loyalty," Wu Daoya pointed out. "Only Dong Fang Ji has that information. He has been working with Zhan Ziyu to manipulate us all. Zhong Yu and I found out recently that Zhan Ziyu, the advisor from Da Liang, is the supplier for all the Black Eagle army provisions. It is to the Liang state's benefit if Wei and Yan are occupied by fighting each other to a stalemate."

"I don't know what to do," Chu Qiao whispered. It was too much to take in on top of her already bitter disillusionment with Yan Xun. "Why are you telling me all of this now? Yan Xun no longer trusts me. He's turned away from Zhong Yu as well. He listens to Cheng Yuan's poison instead."

Yan Xun had been nothing more than an unwitting pawn. What did that make her?

"I am telling you because you are the daughter of Luo He," Wu Daoya reminded her. "You have the right to what your mother achieved. You may not have unlocked your powers yet, but you carry the Wind and Cloud Decree within you. _You_ are the true leader of the Underworld spies. It is not a power or a responsibility that can be set aside or given away."

Chu Qiao stared at him as if he had turned into a stranger. "Don't you understand? None of that matters! Mr. Wu, I can't stop the war. I can't stop _him_."

The man stopped her before she could say more. "This isn't all about Yan Xun. It's about more than that. This is about _you_. Chu Qiao, I know your relationship with Yan Xun and Yuwen Yue is complicated. There is more to each of you than the roles you've inherited. I've told you all this so that when you make your choices, you won't do so out of ignorance."

"Help me, then," she begged. "I know that above all, you seek to protect the people of Yanbei. Now that you are a part of this again, help me save Yanbei from Yan Xun. You more than anyone else should see why it isn't his fault—"

"Isn't it? Chu Qiao, no one can deny that Yan Xun was a victim. But he has made his choices, too." There was little sympathy in Wu Daoya's black eyes. He pierced her with an assessing look from head to toe, though what he thought of her was kept hidden. "Your mother was a woman of principle and I have heard that you are one as well. As long as you keep the welfare of the people in your heart, you won't lose your path. I believe that one day you can finish what she started."

With such meager comfort, Mr. Wu left her. The foundations of all that she'd fought for in the last four years of her life were crumbling away.

Chu Qiao shivered violently as she realized the temperature had plummeted while they had their lengthy conversation. She hadn't noticed, but the air had a touch of frost, as if the torrential rains might soon turn to snow. Her mind compared it to the warm, balmy breezes of Qing Shan Yuan. She had been a slave in Wei, and yet her heart had oddly been free to pursue whatever and whomever it liked. Here, in Yanbei, she was a free woman and a general, and yet her heart felt enslaved.

It was true, she reflected, that the north wind blows colder.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : **Please review and let me know your thoughts**. Thank you all so much for sticking with me and my little story. I promise I will not leave you hanging like the show did – my disappointment and anger over that is literally the reason why I even started writing fanfiction for Princess Agents, so I will never do that to you guys! My updates might be very slow in coming, but you can be assured at least that I'm always still working on it.

The next part will have all the XingYue moments. I hope you're looking forward to them!


	12. Frozen Heart

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

February 17, 2019

 **Author's Notes** : Well, I hope there are still some people reading this! This was way more difficult to write than I expected, so I'm sorry for the very long wait. I think it's actually easier to write a whole story from scratch than to do the patchwork stuff I've been doing. I had a hard time figuring out how much from the drama I want to keep and how many changes I need to make so that what I'm planning will work. For example, Yuwen Yue and Chu Qiao's conversation at the Icy Lake was a critical moment and I thought it was one of the best pieces of screenwriting in the latter half of the drama, but I didn't want to just rehash it all again. The same goes for Chu Qiao's split with Yan Xun. I hope it isn't too confusing for you guys, because I realize that you may have forgotten those parts. It's just tricky to build off a plot that had so many holes toward the end.

"Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must." – Thucydides

* * *

 **Frozen Heart**

* * *

Over a decade ago, three boys had once sat together at a long desk, each dark head bent dutifully over a classical text. By palace standards, the imperial classrooms were plain and utilitarian, with only the quality of the carved wooden decorations on the walls to distinguish it from the servants' quarters. The particular study room they were in had been designed so that there was nothing to distract the young students from their very important lessons.

Still, the boys had been left unsupervised as the result of some prior mischief with the ailing Grand Tutor, so it was only a matter of time before the quiet was broken. Naturally, it was Yan Xun who turned to Yuwen Yue first.

"Five pages to turn in tomorrow!" he complained. "We should have put the mallow in his tea _before_ he assigned it to us. How far are you?"

Chinese mallow was a natural laxative, as Yuwen Yue had learned recently during his _other_ lessons, the ones meant to prepare him to inherit the Eyes of God. Yan Xun hadn't questioned where he had gained the knowledge, having gotten used to Yuwen Yue handily ending up at the top of the class, even though it was considered dangerous to show up the royal princes too often.

The best of the royal princes was sitting next to them anyway. The seventh prince, Yuan Che—otherwise to be addressed as Prince Xiang—had not been part of their experiment with the mallow tea, so Yuwen Yue shot Yan Xun a warning look to watch what he said.

"If you actually applied yourself, you would be done already," Prince Xiang said mildly, not even bothering to look at either of them. "It's not like it's philosophy. The Right of Rebellion and the Mandate of Heaven are the most basic concepts of governance."

Though he wanted to defend Yan Xun, Yuwen Yue had to agree. After all, the three of them were sitting in this room precisely because they were the descendants of powerful families who had wrested control from the previous dynasty and established themselves as the ruling class. While many of their lessons involved rote memorization of classics, a task that Yuwen Yue hated with a passion, this was one assignment that actually had made sense. After all, how could they be expected to maintain power in the future if they didn't understand where their power came from in the first place?

But Yan Xun scowled down at the manuscript as if the characters personally offended him. "It doesn't even make sense. What actually determines who has the Mandate of Heaven? If a rebellion against the emperor is successful, then it's supposed to be evidence that divine approval has passed to the successive dynasty. But if it isn't successful, it's just treason. So whether one has obtained or lost the Mandate of Heaven just comes down to whoever wins, not whoever was in the right."

Prince Xiang sighed. "There's your misunderstanding, then. Heaven wouldn't allow the overthrow of a worthy ruler, ergo any overthrow proves that they weren't worthy."

Yan Xun groaned. "That's just talking in circles and justifying the action from the result. I mean, it's not logical. The people who win aren't always the ones who _should_ win. There have been successful rebellions that led to even worse rulers, so how can that be Heaven's will?"

"Nevertheless, that is the cornerstone of how power is attained in this world," Prince Xiang said as if patiently explaining it to a child, though he was only a few years older than them. "Your father and mine chose to stand together. Because of their alliance, my father gained and kept control of the Wei empire. As the natural reward for his loyalty, your father became Duke of Yanbei. If it had not been a just rebellion, how could they have won?"

"By having a better army?" Yan Xun retorted.

"Well, 'the winner becomes a king, the loser becomes an outlaw,'" Yuwen Yue reminded him. It was a popular saying and one that even uneducated children knew.

"So what system of justice is _that_?" Yan Xun tapped the bamboo scroll in front of him with annoyance. "The only thing this political treatise proves is that the powerful can do whatever they want, including finding justifications for how they got so powerful in the first place."

Yuwen Yue bit back a sigh. The problem wasn't that Yan Xun didn't understand what they were studying, it was that he was just…too idealistic to accept it. From the beginning, he always seemed to believe that his family had _earned_ their power because of some kind of moral responsibility toward the common citizens, not _taken_ it out of ambition.

"Maybe that's the real lesson for you then," said Prince Xiang, the edge of his mouth curling into a slight smile. "Justice is also a concept determined by the victors."

Yuwen Yue knew exactly how and why he had come to be sitting in this room, rather than laboring in the fields as a peasant or washing dishes as a palace slave. He could trace the history of his family back for generations and recount every step and misstep they had taken toward their current position in the hierarchy of power. So could Prince Xiang—after all, no male child of the Emperor's line would have survived to his current age if they had been naïve about being born into privilege.

So maybe it was because Yan Xun was from Yanbei, where gap between the powerful and the powerless was less stark. The Yanbei prince had often told him that in his homeland, there were no slaves. Tribal life was brutal in many ways, but Yan Xun had always spoken of Yanbei as if the simple structure of life in Chang'an was unfathomable to him. The other scions of the nobility, like his worthless cousin Yuwen Huai, resented Yan Xun for his attitude. They thought the prince was trying to lord his royal status over them by constantly elevating his barbarian ways over their civilized rules. Only Yuwen Yue understood that Yan Xun sincerely thought his people lived better lives.

But that belief wouldn't do him any good for this assignment. Yan Xun's inability to really understand his own privilege made him more sympathetic to others in some ways. He was, by far, the kindest to his servants and slaves. But Yuwen Yue thought that in another way, it also made Yan Xun the most arrogant of them all, because at least they were aware of how little (and how much) separated master and slave.

Inspired by that thought, he tried to make his friend understand. "Think of it this way, Yan Xun. What exactly makes you a prince of Yanbei and Ah Ling the servant who washes your clothes? If that isn't the will of Heaven, what makes your family any better than his?"

For a moment, Yan Xun was visibly taken aback. "My family rules Yanbei because we are the leaders of our people. Of course I'm different from Ah Ling. Can you compare the role of a leader to that of a follower? The responsibilities, the expectations, the duties—"

"But you were born to it," Yuwen Yue pointed out. "So the Mandate of Heaven is no different than your birthright. It is something easy for people to understand and accept. If you lose the support of those you rule, if there is a successful revolt by your people, then it is a sign you are not fit to rule."

The logic still didn't sit well with Yan Xun, but Yuwen Yue had made his point. The uncomfortable truth was that empires rose and fell not on the strength of morality, but on the strength of victory.

Prince Xiang shook his head at Yan Xun's disgruntlement. "Did the people choose _you_? Did the gods? Never forget that you are a prince of Yanbei only because your family wrested power from the ruling family before it. The one lesson you must learn is that all else is a pretty fiction—for _others_ to believe. Not you. _You_ cannot have that luxury."

It was an apt statement from a prince who had seen too many of his half brothers die in mysterious—and sometimes not so mysterious—circumstances, all victims of the vicious power struggles in palace politics.

The memory of that long ago conversation was disturbingly fresh in Yuwen Yue's mind as he looked over the short letter before him. The dancing flames of the lantern threw shadows over the hastily written characters, softening the evidence of drastic change. It was much shorter than the previous letter he had received from Yuan Che—that one had warned of Yuan Chun's manipulation of their younger half brother Yuan Yang and her designs to take control of the throne. The fruits of her plotting were evident now.

 _Yuan Chun attempted to poison our royal father. He is very weak, but still alive. The succession is still unclear, but my royal father trusts me. He has placed me in control of all military and government affairs. I have enough support to lead, for now._

The message ended on that ominous note. Official news of Chun'er's capital crime hadn't reached Yanbei yet, but they would soon, despite Prince Xiang's best efforts to keep a tight rein on the chaos that must be overtaking the imperial court.

Yuwen Yue tried not to curse the princess for having made her move, but could it have been any more disastrous? The consequences of her actions were just enough to throw the entire empire into turmoil, but yet not quite enough to usher in a better, more stable ruler. The seventh prince, Prince Xiang, was more of an ally than a close friend, but he was both more capable and more honorable than any of the alternatives, and certainly a far worthier prospect for emperor than the underage Yuan Yang.

But once his initial dismay had passed, Yuwen Yue began to plot. Though this turn of events had been unexpected, it could be used to their advantage. Prince Xiang was far more reasonable than the emperor—he, at least, could be persuaded to end the war on Yanbei and broker a peace, at least if and when the threat from Yan Xun had ended. As long as Yan Xun and his leading generals were stopped in their warmongering, Yuwen Yue felt reasonably certain that Prince Xiang would not pursue additional harsh measures for all the death and destruction the Black Eagle army had caused on their rebellion and attempt to take Chang'an.

In order to stop a conflict that never should have started, he had to balance the Wei side with the Yanbei side into a stalemate—he had to make it too costly for the war to continue. Whatever else Yuan Chun had done, she had at least brought the Wei war efforts to a halt, now that all eyes were on the ailing emperor and the internal politics of the imperial court had been stirred to a peak.

Yan Xun was probably fuming at the news. He would want to take personal revenge on the emperor, and Chun'er had almost stolen that from him—never mind that the princess had just as much reason to hate her father as he did. Despite all the things Yuan Chun had done, and even after she had nearly killed Chu Qiao in her misguided need for revenge, Yuwen Yue still felt sorry for her. There was nothing he could do to help Chun'er, but at least he knew Yuan Che would find a way to spare her life.

The lines had become increasingly blurred on both sides. They were all walking on a knife's edge, and no one more so than Chu Qiao. When Meng Feng had reported that a masked person had freed their captured spies and saved their lives, they had both known exactly who it had been.

But did Yan Xun still trust Chu Qiao? It was clear that General Cheng Yuan was just waiting for an opportunity to make his move against her. Even though Yuwen Yue had ordered his spies to watch over the Xiuli troop, he still worried incessantly. He Xiao and those soldiers were Chu Qiao's greatest weakness and Cheng Yuan was crafty enough to take advantage of it. He had to get rid of Cheng Yuan, and soon. Yuwen Yue's greatest regret in the last month was leaving Cheng Yuan injured but still alive after his assassination attempt on Yuan Song. The Yanbei war hawk deserved one of his specialized arrows to the heart, not just to his leg.

Just as Yuwen Yue mused over his new plan to take down the general, he was interrupted. With his usual prescient timing, Yue Qi hailed him, but he was not alone. One look at his team and he knew things had taken a turn for the worse, again.

"Young master." Meng Feng's greeting was perfunctory. "Yan Xun is trying to get rid of the Xiuli troop. Cheng Yuan went to send He Xiao and his soldiers to Xiuli mountain, to be integrated into the regular army. But when He Xiao refused to rise to his bait, he provoked the Xiuli men into revolting by trying to destroy their ensign."

Yue Qi paced in front of them both in his agitation. "That bastard Cheng Yuan is just using this to try to take down Xing'er! The men were fighting but we didn't know what to do—and Yan Xun is on his way there right now—"

"Do not get involved," Yuwen Yue interrupted with icy calm, though he wanted to curse as well. "Let me take care of it."

Only Chu Qiao's intervention could save her men now, which was exactly what Cheng Yuan wanted. With each crisis, he tested Yan Xun's loyalty and belief in her. With no time to lose, Yuwen Yue scrawled out a hasty message, hating that they had no choice but to play out their roles as Cheng Yuan had planned.

"Meng Feng, get this to Xing'er right away."

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

She could never forgive Yan Xun. She no longer recognized who he was, no longer trusted in what he would and would not do.

It was hard to say when these realizations finally crystallized in her mind. Maybe she had already known in that moment when she turned away from Yan Xun and rode over the bodies of her men, the cold rain mingling with her warm tears. They were the last ones she shed; the rest she swallowed down with her bitter grief.

Maybe it was when she heard Yan Xun's cowardly apology to her from outside of her room and saw his shadow against the window screen.

At that time, she had wanted to rage and scream at him. How could he do this? Even when he had used the people as Hong Chuan as bait and sacrifice for his campaign on Chang'an, she had been powerless to argue with his military strategy, as cruel as it had been. But this—this proved that she had been a fool to think that he cared at all about keeping his vow to the Xiuli soldiers. He had broken every promise, had used them and betrayed them over and over again.

Maybe her realization had come when, after so many days reliving the events in her mind, she finally admitted to herself why he had done it. Xan Yun held no particular animosity toward the Xiuli troops, despite his proclamations about their untrustworthiness and former mistakes. But he had targeted the Xiulis, or rather, had let Cheng Yuan target them, not actually because of anything about _them_ , but because of _her._

All those men had died for nothing more than Yan Xun's need to keep control over her.

It was this thought that kept circling in her head as Zhong Yu bid her farewell and apologized for not speaking up for the Xiulis. The other woman was voluntarily going into exile with Wu Daoya. To think that the man who had orchestrated Yan Xun's escape from captivity and return to Yanbei would now be branded a traitor…it was as if everything she knew had gone topsy turvy. Her faith in her understanding of the world was shaken to its core.

But after the bitter disappointment came a rush of anger. Even if Yan Xun was the cause, how could she not blame herself for not having realized who he really was? If someone, raising a tiger as if it were only a tame cat, found out later that the tiger had eaten the children of the village, whose fault was it really? Her fury at the situation propelled her forward when she confronted Cheng Yuan's lackey and forced him to tell her where the Xiuli Army had gone.

As soon as she heard that He Xiao had led them outside of the city to the Icy Lake, she knew that it was a trap of some kind—though she wasn't sure for whom it was set. Cheng Yuan was devious and what better way to take care of two birds with one stone than by sending the Xiuli troops to patrol areas where Wei soldiers would ambush them.

She couldn't believe that she had once explained her relationship with Yan Xun to Mo'er in such naïve terms. How sanctimonious she had been when she declared that she would always support and understand him, because she had witnessed firsthand how he had suffered. Looking back, she felt ridiculous when she recalled how she had told the child that he could take the path of revenge, _but before you do anything wrong, I will find a way to stop you._

Yuan Song's stinging criticisms came back to haunt her. He was right. Her own arrogance and self-righteousness had blinded her to so much. She had always been a resolute person, but her inflexibility and unflinching support had made her complicit in all the wrong things. She, far more than anyone else, had enabled Yan Xun.

 _Everybody in the world can leave me, betray me, forsake me. But_ you _can't._

Chu Qiao ground her teeth, feeling the words jar through her body more than the jolting trot of her horse over the uneven, dangerous mountain terrain. Her breath puffed out in cold clouds as she neared the Icy Lake, but anger kept her warm. What did he think she was, a loyal dog? A prized possession, given the label of general for show, a position that he was so very quick to strip away as soon as he felt threatened, as soon as it no longer amused him…?

She had put him above everyone else in her life. She had chosen to follow _him_ because she had believed that he had needed her. What he had needed was her blind, stupid loyalty.

 _I need you, too. Can you feel it?_

She had even put aside her feelings in order to support Yan Xun, telling herself that although she couldn't fully return his romantic interest, their friendship and yes, love, was more than strong enough to sustain them through any hardships.

It was only now, riding alone into danger, that she admitted to herself just how much she had let herself be used—how skillfully, in fact, Yan Xun had used everyone around him. From the moment he had returned to Yanbei, he had become a slave to power. He had cast a suspicious eye to Zhong Yu, Mr. Wu, and herself. One by one he had turned his back on them, to the point that his order to send Mr. Wu into exile was supposedly a generous reprieve from execution. He was a wild dog, turning to bite at the hands that once fed him.

The only reason it had taken this long for Chu Qiao to act was because she didn't want to believe it. She had taken his dream as her own. Yan Xun's well being, his rise in power, his safety and comfort had been the one most important thing in her heart for all those years.

Even Yuwen Yue had understood it all too clearly. Whatever her feelings may have been, she had put Yan Xun's needs before his, and before her own. She had even been proud of her steadfastness. Nothing else, _no one else_ had been as important to her as Yan Xun.

On the shores of a frozen lake, the entire world dusted in pure, blinding white, she looked at the austere beauty of the ice and snow and could no longer lie to herself. It was like waking from a very long, exhausting dream.

Chu Qiao could not remain true to him, if she wanted to remain true to herself.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Once he sent Yue Qi away on an excuse to protect Meng Feng, there were no more pretenses between them. Yuwen Yue and Chu Qiao stood alone together before the Icy Lake, a heavy silence between them broken only by the faint crackling of ice. Around the bend of the shore, a little ways from them, Yuwen Yue's Wei soldiers and He Xiao's Xiuli men watched each other in an uneasy truce.

They were two steps apart, he estimated. Seeing her again somehow only increased his longing for her, as if the closer she was to him physically, the farther the distance between them in other ways. He could almost reach out and touch her, but he kept his arms still by his sides, though not without a brief and silent struggle.

He could see the subtle signs of misery on Xing'er, though she held her head high as she had always done, whether she was an iron bell maid or a Yanbei general. Her eyes were still so bright, though no longer with hope. Instead, they glistened with tears she was too resolute to shed. Yuwen Yue watched her as she knelt and gazed unseeingly over the glossy, unmoving surface of the lake. He listened silently as she poured her heart out to him. Her voice was soft, but the words she murmured were filled with so much grief and hurt. How long had she kept all these thoughts locked up within her, unable to confide in anyone?

All her struggles and fears, she confessed to him. He knew how hard it was for her to share her doubts with him. Even now, though her eyes expressed a hundred feelings, she knelt with her back as straight as an arrow, her slim figure in gray and black almost blending in with their harsh surroundings.

There was something in her posture that made him think of her as being infinitely fragile in this moment, as brittle as ice. Yuwen Yue gazed at her back and thought that with only one touch, one kindness, she might break apart in front of him. He wanted so much to draw her into his arms, to gather her close and rest her head on his chest, but that was not what she needed.

Xing'er needed hope. She needed strength, not comfort. She needed to know that there was still a path forward, and she could find her way to it, if only one step at a time.

"Do you have regrets?" he asked.

She did not respond for so long, he almost thought she might not. "I am only a little tired."

He understood all that she didn't say. How could he not? Regrets were useless things, only weighing you down when you needed to move forward. It hurt to see her holding herself together with such thin threads, her despair deeper and colder than the lake. But she hadn't come here for his pity.

"Then rest awhile until you have the strength to go on." Yuwen Yue had never considered himself to be a naturally skilled speaker—all his ability had come from dedicated study and practice. But for her, he felt that he would always be able to find all the right things to say. Though he kept his voice even and steady, his advice practical rather than uplifting, he could see it bolstering her spirit little by little.

"Why do you tell me these things?" she asked when he had finally run out of words. "Don't you want to convince me not to return to Yanbei?"

"I won't try to persuade you of anything you don't want to do." He recalled Meng Feng's report of how Xing'er had rode away in the rain after Yan Xun had killed the Xiuli men. The former assassin had questioned why he didn't just go take her away, when he knew she was so unhappy. But things were so much more complicated than that.

She looked at him with dark, unfathomable eyes. "If I told you now that I will stay with Yan Xun until the end, you wouldn't wish for me to leave him?"

"What I wish for myself does not matter that much." She had been the one who had taught him that. He had lived with ambition his entire life and yet the years during which he had thought she was gone forever had made him realize so many things. "I might want you to stay by my side, but what I hope for even more is that you can follow your own desires and live in happiness."

Her shoulders stiffened and then Xing'er turned away, overcome. They could talk about the execution of her men and Cheng Yuan's backstabbing moves; they could bring up all the lives lost from the war and how Hong Chuan city had been a sacrificial pawn. They could even talk about her disillusionment and how Yanbei was not what she had imagined. But this topic was too painful to touch.

"What if I don't know what I desire any more?" This was the lonely and secret fear she held buried inside of her, the walls she built around it threatening to crack under the pressure now. "His men all call me Yan Xun's woman, but I…"

"Xing'er," he cut her off helplessly as hope and jealousy surged through him. Half of him wanted her to finish what she was saying, but the other half violently rebelled at the thought of what it could be. Despite the reassurances he had just given her, he would have to be a man of stone to not react to the thoughts that filled his mind. He had heard the many rumors, how could he have not? Though the army pilfered supplies and the citizens starved, there was still enough wealth left over for coffers full of extravagant betrothal gifts and enough fine red cloth for a royal wedding. Her supporters said that Yan Xun was planning to take her as his queen. Even those who hated her were sure he would at least make her his royal concubine.

His heart shuddered hard at the thought of Xing'er in Yan Xun's arms…Xing'er in Yan Xun's bed. Visions of the two of them in matching finery appeared like a red haze before him. His head pounded and he closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself into calm. Rather than answer her question, he finally reached out to touch her trembling shoulders. The need to erase the distance between them was almost a physical ache but as always, he was aware that he had no claim on her.

"Xing'er, why do you stay? Do your feelings for him truly run so deep?"

At that, she turned, her entire body shivering but not from cold, and then it was only natural for his arms to drop from her shoulders to encircle her, and for her to respond to him like a flower seeking the sun. She tucked her head under his chin, eyes closed but cheeks still wet with trails of tears. He pressed her against him, pulse thundering, and forgot everything else.

Had it been years since he had first kissed her in the courtyard of Qing Shan Yuan? They were both such different people now, but the magnetic force between them remained exactly the same. Whatever had happened, whatever would happen in the future, his touch promised her that she could always return to him. Even if she had chosen Yan Xun first. Even if she still chose Yan Xun now.

Yuwen Yue had spent most of his life cultivating a strict self-control, and yet when it came to her, he felt lost in every way. He was raised in treacherous settings where he learned not to need anyone, but he knew he needed her as surely as he needed to breathe air.

He felt the damp warmth of her tears and he waited for her to draw away, to reject his possessive embrace.

But she only spoke to him, her voice choked with tears. "Yuwen Yue, I've never owed anyone anything. But you…I owe you too much."

 _Don't go back_ , he might have pleaded. _Leave him to his fate. You aren't responsible for his pain, and you aren't responsible for his happiness. Stay here with me_.

But the words were left unsaid. They both knew that she still could not make a clean break of it—at least not until she confronted Yan Xun herself.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

She had officially become a general in name only. Though Chu Qiao had returned to Yan Xun's camp that night after the failed ambush between He Xiao and Yuwen Yue's soldiers, she kept to herself and withdrew all effort to take part in military matters. She even sent the servants away until she was left alone in her rooms, as quiet as a caged bird. Yan Xun left her alone, though she knew he was merely waiting out her anger over his execution of the Xiuli men. Once, she might have been naïve enough to assume he felt some sense of guilt.

But though she put up a good pretense of being a heartbroken woman, Chu Qiao had never let grief stall her. Even before Yuwen Yue had initiated her into the Eyes of God as a spy, she had known the value of biding her time. She hadn't avenged her brother and sister by being hasty in her plans. It was even easier now because despite all that they had been through, despite all that she had done for him, Yan Xun still somehow underestimated her. He assigned two inexperienced, young guards as "protection" for her and that was it. She had more trouble with Cheng Yuan's lackeys.

Every night she slipped like a ghost through the camp, gathering information. She had let her faith in Yan Xun blind her for too long—she had closed her eyes and ears to all the warning signs. That was how Cheng Yuan had gained the upper hand. That was how she had been caught off guard by his underhanded tactics aimed not at her, but at those she couldn't protect, like He Xiao. That was how Wu Daoya and Zhong Yu had slowly lost influence and ground until they had been forced out as exiles.

Even having steeled her heart after so many betrayals, it still shocked her just how much Yan Xun had hidden from her and how much she had been excluded from the true face of the war. Yan Xun was growing desperate; Yuwen Yue had won too many battles recently at the Meilan Pass. She also found the driver of Yan Xun's paranoia when she discovered that Yuwen Yue's spies were passing information along about all the battle formations and the distributions of the troops. Before the men even engaged in battle, Yuwen Yue had won. He knew exactly which military commanders he would face and what strategies they had planned. After a while, Yan Xun had figured out what was happening, but his handling of the matter was to execute half of his commanders for treason along with a fraction of Yuwen Yue's actual spies.

Unsurprisingly, army morale lay in pieces. The men had already been on the verge of revolt after Yan Xun had turned them back from Chang'an in order to return to Hong Chuan City. Cheng Yuan stirred the flames of resentment, feeding the uneducated soldiers' superstitions about the bad luck of having a woman general in the army. Chu Qiao heard all the rumors, including the bits of truth scattered in.

She was a witch who had ensorcelled the young king. She was a spy from the Wei—after all, the Wei Emperor himself had granted her a position in the Wei army! She was He Xiao's secret lover and that was why Yan Xun had broken the Xiuli Army in his rage. She was actually a slave and a whore whose loyalty was to General Yuwen Yue. She was a demon in battle because she made blood sacrifices. She was a spy for Da Liang—didn't everyone hear how the pansy prince Xiao Ce had taken a special interest in her? And she had sold her unholy soul and you could see it in the pitch black of her eyes.

Unable to break through the Meilan Mountian Pass, Yan Xun had resorted to terrorizing the villages surround it, presuming them to be loyal to the Wei empire. It was true that some of Yuwen Yue's men were recruited from or had homes among the villagers, but Yan Xun did not take the time to discriminate. The wholesale slaughter of families, including women and children, left even the Yanbei soldiers uneasy about vengeful ghosts.

Chu Qiao had been too simple, before. She had been so single-minded in her support and defense of of Yan Xun that she had never realized how shaky his position was—the eight Yanbei tribes notoriously warred against each other for any small thing, and yet they were united in their hatred of Yan Xun. He was a king in name, but an upstart in their eyes who had risen to power by murdering the former leaders of Yanbei in cold blood.

Chu Qiao had once been convinced that Yan Xun's moves were merely "cleaning house." The Yanbei chiefs who had thrived under the Wei emperor had done so at the expense of their own people; they had sold out their loyalty to their homeland for their positions. Therefore, she had reasoned back then, it was only just for Yan Xun as their returning prince to kill and replace them with those who were loyal to him and supported him.

Yuwen Yue must have known all along, but he must also have realized how pointless it would have been for him to try to tell her the truth back then. When they had found Mo'er in the aftermath of the Xianyang business council massacre, she had already had suspicions about why they had been let go. But she had told herself that the shadowy, hooded figure that had given the order to let them leave could not be Yan Xun. His voice had been too deep, too rough. _Yan Xun_ would never murder the entire Ouyang family in cold blood, leaving behind only a traumatized boy who had only survived because of a little servant girl's protection. That was too impossible.

More than anything else, her thoughts returned to Mo'er often. How was the boy doing with his adopted father and mother? He had grown up as a pampered little lord and now to be safe, he would have to forever adopt a lowborn name and identity. She remembered him sleeping between herself and Yuwen Yue, putting on a brave face even when he screamed with nightmares of seeing his mother killed in front of him. Was he growing bigger and stronger now, dreaming of revenge?

 _Before you do anything wrong, I will find a way to stop you._

Too much wrong had already been done. Nor could she find a way to stop Yan Xun. She didn't even know if she could ever bear to, even after all the truths that she had learned about him, his father, and all of Yanbei and Wei's bloodshed. Never before had Chu Qiao felt more caught between the two sides, her beliefs tearing her apart as she remained frozen out of indecision. Yet motionlessness was a way of protecting herself from pain, too. Could she ever raise her hand against Yan Xun?

Then there were other costs of leaving to consider. She would no longer have access to all the information she had gathered. It wasn't as if she would betray the Yanbei army by taking everything to Yuwen Yue. There were innocent men on both sides and all she could achieve by leaving Yan Xun was to take herself out of the war—which at this point would affect the outcome very little. It was still safer to stay by his side and plan out her next move, even if she was at a loss as to what it should be.

The Meilan border was at an impasse as days stretched into weeks. Despite the tentative ceasefire caused by the Emperor's failing health, the latest news was that Prince Xiang was marching to the border to attack Yanbei. When a Yanbei spy reported that there was infighting among the Wei commanders due to a prominent lord from the Zhao family arriving at the border to try to seize power from Yuwen Yue, Chu Qiao didn't know how to feel. She should have been glad that Yuwen Yue had his own adversaries even in his own camp, and yet never had she been more aware of how swiftly betrayal could end lives.

The situation seemed hopeless. The frozen winter had forced a false stalemate for the time being, but the harsh conditions wouldn't hold Yan Xun back for long, not with Cheng Yuan urging him on.

She was just one woman. How could she stop a war?

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Another shipment of goods had been delivered to the army. The men were in a relaxed mood with all the new rations, but Chu Qiao watched from the shadows as Cheng Yuan received the messenger who came with the shipment. After what Wu Daoya had told her about Da Liang's involvement in the conflict between Yanbei and Wei, she had been trying to find out more about the key players that she previously hadn't known existed.

Her patience paid off when she heard the messenger slip and refer to "Lord Zhan" during their conversation, though Cheng Yuan had been careful to leave out names. It confirmed what Wu Daoya had told her: Yan Xun was getting support from Zhan Ziyu—the top Da Liang advisor, and the person who had orchestrated her mother's death. Then that meant Dong Fang Ji had thrown his weight behind the Wei army, using the conflict to weaken both sides and leave them open to attack by Southern Liang.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Chu Qiao quickly made to slip away before she was discovered, but the soldier ran right past her and into the tent. Cheng Yuan barked at his hapless underling, but she heard the exchange clearly:

"His Majesty summons you urgently."

"What is it now? Enough already," Cheng Yuan said irritably. "He agreed this morning that there is no way forward as long as Yuwen Yue stays alive."

Chu Qiao's heart thumped hard at the words and she stole a few steps closer to the tent, praying that the guard who was sleeping on duty would remain fast asleep. It was expected for them to strategize on how to take Yuwen Yue out, but secret meetings in the middle of the night? This sounded more like something Yan Xun wouldn't want widely known.

"General, perhaps he is still having second thoughts?" the soldier meekly suggested. She could tell it was the same captain that she had threatened before.

"I told him that his decisions will affect the lives of hundreds of men. He must make the right decision. He would sacrifice how many of us for the sake of his tender feelings for his childhood friend and rival?" Cheng Yuan's tone had never sounded uglier, the sneer in his words almost poisonous.

"Tell him again," the captain urged. "He won't send the assassin out even after I reassured him that the man is the best we have."

"Is he afraid of failure or merely afraid of what his woman would think?" Cheng Yuan almost spit the words out and with a start, Chu Qiao realized he was speaking of her. So that was it, he had convinced Yan Xun to try to murder Yuwen Yue in the most cowardly of ways.

"As long as that bitch is still alive, His Majesty will never fully commit to an attack," the other man griped. "All she does is hold us back. Our good men die for nothing."

"Did he at least send the spy to Yuwen Yue to lure him?"

"That part is already done at least. I heard His Majesty myself. The spy was instructed to commit suicide after telling the bastard that Chu Qiao is hurt and needs his help at the Icy Lake."

Cheng Yuan gave a soft, but vicious laugh. "Then even if our weak little prince can't find the guts to do it, I will ride to the Icy Lake myself. I can finish things if he's not man enough to face his old friend. One way or another, Yuwen Yue is done for."

Chu Qiao had heard enough. Sick to her stomach, she made to back away from Cheng Yuan's tent, but stumbled over the outstretched foot of the sleeping guard outside of the tent.

The guard woke, but before he could raise the alarm, she struck him hard behind the ear.

His shout was muffled before it truly began and he slumped quickly. She caught his weight, trying not to curse at the heavy armor. As she lowered him to the ground, she crouched low beside him, ready to excuse herself by saying that she found him after an attack. But the guard's partner was still looking the opposite way, somehow oblivious of everything that had just happened.

Little did she know that inside the tent, Cheng Yuan and his captain were exchanging smug, victorious glances.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

"She heard everything," Cheng Yuan announced, pacing before Yan Xun. "Now she'll go running to Yuwen Yue like his little spy whore—"

"Shut up," Yan Xun cut him off angrily. "I told you that I wouldn't tolerate your games and petty machinations against Chu Qiao. I warned you before when you set up that farce with Sun He."

"Your Majesty! It's about time someone showed you where her loyalties lie!" Cheng Yuan hissed back in fervent anger. "Brother Sun He was glad to take his life to open your eyes!"

"Who are _you_ to question her?" Yan Xun roared.

Cheng Yuan did not back down in the slightest. "Then watch what she does! If she goes to warn him, you will have all the answer you need, whether you want to blind yourself to it or not!"

Rather than respond, Yan Xun abruptly sat down and leaned his head into his hand, his eyes closing against another one of his frequent headaches. The silence was thick and heavy but Cheng Yuan was as patient as a snake. Finally, Yan Xun looked up at him again.

"We will see then. You are dismissed."

Cheng Yuan was careful to wait until his back was toward his king, but he smiled as he left.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : As you can see, I am making some big changes about how exactly everyone ended up at the Icy Lake, so please keep in mind there are going to be differences. Let me know if you have any comments or suggestions on how to make this better. As always, thank you for all your support and please review so I know if anyone's still reading this!


	13. Inheritance

**Cold Moon, Bright Star**

By bloodredrosez

May 26, 2019

 **Author's Notes** : So, I hope there are still some people reading this... I'm really, really sorry for the long wait. To be honest, if not for the few people who encouraged me to continue, I probably wouldn't be writing more. This all started because I was mad about how the drama ended. I mean, don't get me started on the "battle" at the Icy Lake and the horrible editing—they even used the exact same scene twice, apparently by accident. Plus, my boyfriend was laughing at how awkward CQ looked when she jumped into the water after YWY, and after he pointed that out, it ruined the moment for me and I just can't unsee it!

It's been years since PA finished and I still feel like everyone deserved better than what we got. I'm finally at the part where my part of the story _starts_ , but this fell so far down in my priorities that I'm ashamed to say that I almost forgot about it. But if you're still reading and want more, please tell me and I'll try my best to continue if there's still interest.

 _The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. – Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

* * *

 **Inheritance**

* * *

Chu Qiao's heart felt like it was caught in her throat even as she pressed herself against the muscular arch of her horse's neck, crouching low to avoid the painful whiplash of low hanging branches. The thundering of the horse's hooves matched the frantic pulse of her blood. Although no one had stopped her from leaving the Black Eagle army camp, her absence would likely be noted soon, since Yan Xun kept such a close watch on her.

Her anger had a bitter edge when she thought of Yan Xun. Less than an hour had passed since she had found out Cheng Yuan's plan to use her as bait for Yuwen Yue. She had debated whether to confront Yan Xun right then and there, but though she knew that Yan Xun had given his blessing on the plan even if he had not come up with it himself, it would be far too easy for him to deny all knowledge of it if she went to him. He would find a way to turn it on her and then she would be left on the defensive, trying to explain why she was spying on Cheng Yuan in the first place.

Chu Qiao tried to take some deep, calming breaths, determined to stay focused. The truth was, her options were extremely limited. She didn't know exactly when Cheng Yuan's spy was to meet Yuwen Yue, but from the captain's report, the spy had already been dispatched. Cheng Yuan and his troops had probably left camp not long after she had, which meant that she was racing against them.

She didn't have a hope of intercepting Yuwen Yue before he reached the Icy Lake since she didn't know where he was or what direction he would come from. He Xiao's Xiuli men were still at the Icy Lake, but she knew that Yuwen Yue had withdrawn the majority of his men from the area, as it was not a strategic location that needed to be held. Yan Xun and Cheng Yuan probably counted on the fact that Yuwen Yue would be lured to the Icy Lake alone, or at least with only his personal guards.

The problem was that the only place Chu Qiao could reliably find him, at least in time to warn him, was the very place of the ambush itself—at the Icy Lake. However she racked her brains, she could not think of another way to warn him, other than arriving there first herself. The real question was, if she fought to defend Yuwen Yue, would Yan Xun still carry out his plans for assassination?

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

A Chu had betrayed him. Yan Xun didn't need Cheng Yuan's smirk to tell him that Chu Qiao had done exactly as the general had expected—she hadn't even hesitated in leaving the camp to warn Yuwen Yue. Little did she know that he had already ambushed Yuwen Yue and left him for dead, all before Cheng Yuan had even persuaded him to act out the scene to test whether A Chu would eavesdrop and what she would do with the information. He felt the burn of it come at him at a distance, perhaps because he had long been expecting it. No matter what she had done, what she said, he had always suspected that she had never really been _his_.

As for Cheng Yuan… Someone who could conspire against the leaders of his own side, who could inspire his followers to commit suicide just for the sake of furthering his own play? Cheng Yuan was too dangerous indeed to be kept alive. Yan Xun only hoped that the general could take out Yuwen Yue before getting killed by him. It would take down two birds with one stone.

"Your Majesty, she is just ahead," his lieutenant reported. "Do you want us to intercept her or let her go?" Despite the bravado of his words, he quailed as his king shifted his focus onto him.

Yan Xun barked an order for his men to continue to the Ice Lake without him. He rode ahead alone. This was a confrontation he had pushed back too many times, but even now, he would give A Chu one more chance to choose.

The time for greetings had long since passed. They both knew exactly why there were there. Yan Xun wasted no breath in cutting to the heart of the matter. "You came too late. What you overheard has already happened. By now, Yuwen Yue is dead. We had an agreement; there is no need to spare any mercy on the battlefield." Despite himself, he heard the faint edge of defensiveness, felt a strange twisting sense of guilt. He saw her stunned shock and his next words were harsh, almost condemning. "As King of Yanbei, I must do many things, but everything that I did, A Chu, was for you."

She faced him in the middle of the road, her hair wind-tossed but her expression as hard as stone as she spoke. Yan Xun listened without really hearing her words. What mattered was that all the history they shared together couldn't seem to erase the fact that Yuwen Yue had gotten to her first. He had known all along why she had pushed him aside, why she turned away when he would have kissed her, why she went quiet whenever he spoke of giving her the world and making her his bride. Only one man had been capable of driving such a rift between himself and A Chu.

A bitter resentment burned like acid poison in his chest and the words he flung out were more accusation than question. "I just want to know one thing, A Chu. In all these years, did you ever actually love me?"

Chu Qiao stared at him, her feelings shifting from disbelief to belated understanding. "I don't know if my feelings ever counted as love. But I cared for you, Yan Xun. I couldn't stand it when others hurt you, I regarded your dream as mine, and even took your hometown as my own. Your position, your safety, your well-being, your victories and losses—they have always been the most important things in my heart for all these years." Chu Qiao's eyes were bright with emotion and fury. She had given Yan Xun everything she could, and yet he still demanded more. She could see that her tear-streaked face stirred something in him, although it was not a protective instinct.

"Do you still not understand, Yan Xun? My biggest dream was to return to Yanbei with you and see you get what you wanted. I lost my family and my memories, so for all these years, you were the most important person for me, the reason for my existence. But I am not sure now. Is everything I've done worth it? Did I really know who you are?"

Yan Xun looked at her, reduced to such a pitiful state, and felt his heart harden rather than soften. Despite what she claimed, her actions showed that she held one person above him. He was tired of her lies.

"I haven't changed, A Chu. You have." _She_ had betrayed him, not the other way around. _She_ was the one who was breaking their pact, leaving him, just as he was on the cusp of achieving everything they had desired.

But A Chu was relentless in her accusations. "Yan Xun, from the moment you came back to Yanbei, you started to suspect us all: Zhong Yu, Mr. Wu, me. You've become a slave to power. Your revenge, your hatred, is born of your selfish motives." Chu Qiao took a deep breath, knowing her next words would bring her to the point of no return in his eyes. Still, the truth poured out in a rush of grief and helpless anger. "You don't even know the truth! Your father _did_ plot against the Emperor, Yan Xun. There was proof that he was making alliances and planning to fight for independence. One of his own advisors sold him out and gave the information to Da Liang, which passed it to the Emperor, knowing the conflict it started would weaken both Yanbei and Wei."

Yan Xun stared at her as if she had transformed into a demon. "Who has been lying to you, A Chu? Did Yuwen Yue tell you all this? No, impossible…but you met with Wu Daoya before he was exiled. He's been working against me ever since I took control from the council." His features twisted into a mask of rage as another possibility entered his suspicious mind. "Or was it Cheng Yuan?"

Chu Qiao ignored his wild accusations. Voicing her real feelings and thoughts to him had lifted a huge weight from her shoulders, one that she hadn't even realized was there. "I don't blame you for trying to kill Yuwen Yue." After all, this was war. After all, she didn't truly _know_ yet. Though Yan Xun had told her he was already dead, in her heart she would not believe it until she held his body in her own arms. "But you should not have used his feelings for me to bait for your snare. You should not have used such a despicable, cowardly method."

They looked at each other, the lines finally drawn clearly between them, with no more room for misunderstandings or forgiveness. They had pushed each other to this point.

"I will go find Yuwen Yue," she told him, her voice breaking. "This is my last warning to you. If he dies here in Yanbei, I will never forgive you."

This was her choice.

Yan Xun watched as she turned her back on him and rode away, passing through the lines of his uneasy men. He was reminded of how she had looked in the rain that day when he had ordered her Xiuli men executed. He was reminded of how she had looked that day long ago, when his world shattered and his family was executed. Only now he was the monster on the other side.

This was his choice.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

Yue Qi let go of the dead soldier and watched him slump to the ground in disgust, a pool of blood spreading from the man's self-inflicted fatal wound. "It's a trap. This man probably isn't even a Xiuli—he could be one of Cheng Yuan's men. I'm sure Xing'er won't be there. Yan Xun just wants to stop you from leaving Yanbei."

"It's a trap," his master agreed. "But as long as Xing'er is involved, we have no choice but to go. Yan Xun knows I won't risk her life."

"But would Yan Xun really stoop so low as to use her as bait?" Yue Qi argued. "She would never agree to this kind of trick and if she found out what he did, she would never stand with him again."

"We don't have time to second guess ourselves or his motivations." Yuwen Yue looked at the dead man before him, his mouth set in a grim line. "I can ride quickly to the Icy Lake with my personal guard, but he knows that I've sent the rest of our men to the front of the mountain pass. Yan Xun has planned this ambush too well."

Yue Qi nodded in understanding. "Even if we called them back now, they would never arrive in time, and if we go to the Icy Lake, we can't hope to fight them off with the number of men we have now."

"No, we can't. All we can do is buy some time for her." But Yuwen Yue had made contingency plans for this, though he hadn't expected to have to use them. He laid a heavy hand on Yue Qi's shoulder, knowing that he was risking not only his own life, but also the lives of his most trusted companions.

After his meeting with Chu Qiao at the abandoned temple and their somber conversation, he had had plenty of time to think about the aftermath of their inevitable battle. What if Chu Qiao later wanted to leave Yan Xun, but found that she could not? Although he was confident in his own skills, things changed in the blink of an eye when it came to war. What would happen if he were to die unexpectedly in battle? Who would be able to help her then?

"Yue Liu and Yue San need to ride straight to our base camp at the front of the Meilan Pass. They will report to Die Ying and tell her the watchword. Then—"

"Die Ying…" For a moment, the name was unfamiliar to Yue Qi. "Oh, you mean Meng Feng's second in command from the Afterlife Camp? She's there with our troops?" The question spilled out before he thought it through, and then Yue Qi realized that he had just made it very obvious that he didn't keep close enough track over the former assassins. Fortunately, he was spared a scolding.

Yuwen Yue merely gave him a reproachful look, his disappointment mild, which somehow only made it worse. "As I was saying, Die Ying will set things in motion. I've already entrusted messages to each of the spies from the Eyes of God. There are nine sealed scrolls. Each spy is just waiting for my signal and the information will spread fast and wide."

"But… I don't understand, how is this going to save us?" Yue Qi couldn't help but ask.

"It may not," was the short reply. "But whether we live or die, it will bring every player in the Jiang Hu to the Icy Lake, and that may be enough to save Xing'er."

"Then the information on those sealed scrolls…it's about her?"

Yuwen Yue nodded. "They contain the secret of her true parentage. No one will let slip an opportunity to seize control of the Wind and Cloud Decree. Being the daughter of Luo He will protect her against Yan Xun better than anything else, at this point."

He did not need to tell Yue Qi that if they did survive Yan Xun's ambush and his gamble somehow worked, he still might lose Xing'er in another way. As the heir of the Yuwen name and as the leader of the Eyes of God, he was diametrically opposed to her, if she ever claimed her inheritance. Just recently his friendship with Xiao Yu had ended for far less—over a decade of trust and affection had been erased in the blink of an eye.

His family and hers were mortal enemies, and that was a legacy almost impossible to overcome.

Of course, unless they both survived, it would never be a problem.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

The entire world was awash in white and red. In the freezing temperatures, all the freshly spilled blood turned into rubies scattered in the ice and snow, as if the desperate life and death struggles that produced them were merely performances of great art.

The glacial winds and swirling snow covered the bodies of the fallen men, Wei and Yanbei alike. It snatched Chu Qiao's breath away until she had none left to cry out in rage and grief. She had felt no satisfaction or relief as she had killed Cheng Yuan, her every movement brutal but precise. Instead, she only saw him impaling Yue Qi on his blade all over again and then even denying him a quick death. Cheng Yuan had taken the extra time to torture him out of sheer spite, stabbing him with a dagger just to make his last moments so much more painful.

She wanted to cry for Yue Qi but her tears froze on her lashes and she rubbed them away with an impatient hand. She was caught in a nightmare, but the pounding, hot rush of blood through her body left her with a diamond-bright lucidity and she cut through the wall of men as if she were dancing by herself. She could see the vast whiteness of the Icy Lake through the trees and it seemed impossibly far away. She barely heard He Xiao as he shouted at her to go, his grim expression promising her that he would die fighting off the Yan Xun's soldiers if that was what she needed of him.

The frozen surface lay below the mountain ridge where Yuwen Yue's men had been cut down to the very last man. He was just one man in in bloodstained white, a lone figure against an angry mob. He fought as viciously and desperately as a cornered wolf—yet Chu Qiao could see that high above them on a cliff, Yan Xun sent more men at him with a casual flick of his wrist.

In a burst of inspiration Chu Qiao stopped to grab a bow and quiver from one of her victims. She released arrow after arrow, but it was still not enough. She was so far away and so many enemies surrounded him. Why had she ever left his side?

"Yuwen Yue!" She meant to let him know that she was here, that she would help him.

His head turned toward her but the distraction cost him. Before her horrified eyes, he jerked back from the impact of an arrow that lanced halfway through his chest. He fell to his knees and for a moment she thought it had pierced his heart.

The last few steps to him were an agony. She screamed at men watching from the stark cliffs above, unable to tell if it had come from Yan Xun's bow or not, though it didn't matter.

"Xing'er," he murmured through bloodied lips. Despite everything else, she could still hear the understated warmth in his voice that he had always reserved only for her. He whispered his name for her again and it was as if the delicate glass around her heart that had encased all her fear suddenly shattered.

Chu Qiao held him up with both hands on his shoulders, ugly sobs tearing out of her. "I came, I'm here."

"You need to go," he told her. He put his hands over hers, weakly trying to push her away. She could tell that the blood loss had left him disoriented, but she knew he would hold on if only to protect her. "Hurry," he urged her.

She was crying so hard that their bodies trembled together, her tears unstoppable. In that moment, she forgot about Yan Xun, forgot about the men still waiting to advance on them, about everything that was not Yuwen Yue. "No, I'm not going anywhere."

He tried to catch her gaze with his own, his fingers gentle as he cupped her face. "Xing'er, listen to me. You must go."

But Chu Qiao was beyond reason. Her life had been a long, nonstop struggle from the moment of her birth, but even through all of the different tragedies she had suffered, she had never felt this kind of panic and pain. It was bright and hot, a molten sword against her heart. If he left her… if she lost Yuwen Yue…

She shielded his body with hers, knowing her protection was pitiful. "I'm sorry," she cried, though whether it was to him or to herself, she didn't know. "I will never leave you again. You have to hold on."

But his strength seeped from him as surely as his blood flowed. She felt a blind terror when she realized that she might witness his death right here, right now. Human life was so fragile, why hadn't she learned that by now? But in her mind, in her heart, Yuwen Yue had always seemed to be more than just a man. He was too smart, too cunning, and above all, too capable to be killed.

How could this be happening? How could this nightmare be real?

"Get up, Yuwen Yue. Hold on," she pleaded, the words tumbling out in strings of nonsense. All she could do was chant them over and over again. "You have to hold on, you have to hold on!" But he slumped forward against her, his eyes sliding shut, and she pressed her frozen lips to his forehead, despair spiraling through her. Her breath came out in ragged sobs. "No…please, no…"

Chu Qiao looked up at the heavens then. If she had believed in a deity, any deity, she might have begged for a miracle. But there was nothing but a cold white sky to answer her prayers—a cold white sky, and a dark, thin man on a cliff, mounted on horseback.

Even from so far away, she thought she could see the blank expression in his eyes, the tightly controlled look on his face. He looked down at them with all the regal air of a cruel king, no longer the desperate rebel. But even though she couldn't actually see through the tears blurring her vision, Chu Qiao finally recognized his expression for what it was: not disgust, but envy. Simple, powerful, all-consuming envy.

For the first time in her life, looking up at that distant figure, Chu Qiao understood what Yan Xun really wanted—what he had always wanted. Her.

All these many years Yan Xun had told her this, over and over again, in so many actions and words, but she had always ignored or dismissed it. Just like that one night at the Oriole Courtyard, she had kept denying him without confronting him. Perhaps, secretly, she had hoped that he would grow out of it or be discouraged. But all the times she had pushed him away only made him want her more. And because she had stubbornly denied the truth to herself all these years, because she was so sure she was handling it, Yuwen Yue would pay the price for her.

She couldn't let him. She already owed him more than she could ever repay in her lifetime. Chu Qiao could not let him pay for her pride and arrogance with his life. Her breathing calmed and her tears dried up, leaving icy-warm half frozen trails down her cheeks. Even though Yuwen Yue's eyes were shut, she looked at him as if to memorize every detail of his face.

"Wait for me," she whispered. _I won't leave you again_ , she silently added. _Not in this lifetime, not in the next._

The crackling of the ice warned her of the next wave of approaching soldiers. There were too many of them, but that didn't matter. She had already made her decision. If Yuwen Yue died here, so would she.

Chu Qiao let instinct take over, ruthlessly clearing her mind of her emotions as she had been taught. She reached deep inside herself, though not for the techniques that Yuwen Yue had honed in her. No, she went deeper and farther than that, to her past self—to the gifted, lonely child who had once been fearless, because her mother had tortured all the fear out of her.

Unlike Yan Xun's men, who came toward her in faltering steps, she had nothing left to lose. Her limbs were no longer weighed down by fatigue and injury. Chu Qiao sliced through the soldiers as if they were paper dolls, the thin ice beneath her feet splitting apart with every step. Her body attuned to the cold in a strange way, she could feel the fragile, weak spots in a way that her attackers could not. Already, dozens of men had slipped into the dark, deadly water beneath without time for so much as a frightened cry.

At last there was no one left around her. It took her a moment to realize why. Those who still could had retreated, because the middle of the lake was now completely fragmented. Worst of all, Yuwen Yue lay by himself on a piece of ice drifting away from her.

Even as she ran toward him, she heard the whistle of heavy projectiles through the air. For a heartbeat, she thought Yan Xun had abandoned all intent to capture Yuwen Yue alive. A scream ripped from her throat, buried by the sound of pronged hooks smashing into ice. Yan Xun's men started drawing him to them. As Yuwen Yue drifted even farther away, the ice tilted dangerously and he slid toward the edge.

Surprised shouts suddenly came from the cliffs above, the clash of swords signifying some kind of battle with newcomers, but Chu Qiao had eyes only for his still form.

Too late, too late… She knew it in her heart even as she saw him disappear into the water, even as she flung herself after him.

The first icy plunge shocked the breath out of her but she forced herself not to involuntarily inhale. Her body remembered what her mind struggled to recall. Jumbled memories flashed through her mind: her mother's voice coldly instructing her on how to maintain control, her choked tears from nearly drowning that first time she had been pushed into the melted ice water in the cave pool, the strange and terrible bliss of surrendering to the cold. For months, they had played a "game" of dying and reviving in the frigid water. There were less brutal ways to learn how to master the kungfu of ice, of course, but Luo He had never been one to go easy on her disciples, and especially not her daughter.

Now, Chu Qiao dove down, reaching after Yuwen Yue's sinking form. The water was crystal clear and had forced him awake. Their gazes met underwater. She grabbed at him and connected, but then somehow she was pulling him down, rather than up toward the ever more distant surface. She had dropped her sword but her armor and sodden clothes were too heavy despite her frantic efforts. They sank together.

Yuwen Yue stared at her, his intent so clear she could almost hear him. _Leave me_ , he told her. _Go, Xing'er. Live._

Even as she let go with one hand, fumbling to unfasten her clothes, he struggled to push her away, trying to propel her up. She shed her robe, kicking her legs free of it, yet they were running out of time and air.

 _No, not without you._ Her hand still grasped his arm, though her fingers were too numb to feel anything. She was terrified that sge would let go without even realizing it. _We'll live together._

It was too cold. The blood in her veins flowed sluggishly, but it was almost as if she could feel the heat of his frustration, the burn of his passionate demand. _Save yourself, Xing'er._

She gave up trying to fight her way to the surface, accepting their fate. Part of her knew from her past memories that this time, it was already too late for them. Instead, Chu Qiao pressed herself as close to him as she could, closing her eyes and letting her mind drift back to better days.

How strange, that even though she had hated being a slave in Qing Shan Yuan and had gone through some of the worst experiences of her life there, it was the home she thought of, not anywhere else. Of course, in her mind, that was where _he_ was, where he belonged—safe and sound, lord of his people and master of his house.

And that was where _she_ was, by his side, enjoying his attention as a flower turns toward the sun. In the beautiful temperate green gardens, they sparred without regard for any sense of propriety, two birds flitting from bridge to pavilion to his private rooms and bedchamber. She felt his hand hot on her hip, gently turning her to correct her stance, and her whole body ached with the secret wish to be closer. She heard his breath hitch when she put her hand on his wrist, her fingers lightly grazing his warm bare skin below his vambrace.

Chu Qiao felt her eyes close. The ache in her lungs, the desperate need for air, slowly eased. Her arms and legs were no longer heavy; in fact, it almost felt as though she were floating, or flying. Rather than struggle against the water, she drifted with it, finding the Way. So this is what it meant, she thought dreamily: this was the balance and order of life, the flow of that essential energy of action and existence.

She remembered those balmy evenings in Qing Shan Yuan as she watched over Yuwen Yue at work, his grip on the calligraphy brush steady, yet his wrist kept loose for free movement. She had marveled at the precision with which he swirled the tip in the ink she had painstakingly prepared, and the subsequent smooth glide that created both art and meaning. On other nights, she had sat at his study, in his chair, while he patiently showed her the order of each stroke. Like all the things he did, Yuwen Yue made it seem effortless and natural. He was a warm presence beside her, his voice deep and serious as he recited the _Tao Te Ching_ from memory and had her practice writing each character.

Perhaps it had only been her lonely heart that had turned those moments into something intimate. It was likely that he had held no such tender affection for her, at least back then. He had been trying to teach the meaning of the Tao to her, which she secretly thought was unfathomable, a little pretentious, and boring.

 _Like water_ , he explained, _it is undifferentiated, endlessly self-replenishing, soft and quiet but immensely powerful, and impassively generous…_

The problem was that she had always been a visual learner. She had won her silver bells because of her ability to recall memories with near complete accuracy. Yet nothing came to her mind when he described the Tao, despite all the comparisons to water.

Well, nothing except the man before her, she thought to herself. Yes, Yuwen Yue somehow managed to be all those contradictory things. He was like a deep pool of water. She had once arrogantly thought she could judge who he was with one quick glance, and yet he possessed such remarkable depth of character that even now, she was unsure whether she truly knew or understood him. Sometimes he seemed almost inhuman in his abilities.

As for impassively generous, he had given her the ring she wore, hadn't he? It was worth far more than anything else she had ever owned, and yet he had gifted it to her just as casually as he had bought her the rabbit lantern during the festival. A small smile escaped her at the thought, earning her a puzzled look from him.

Without a doubt, Yuwen Yue would scoff at her fanciful misinterpretation of the Tao, but at least he couldn't fault her for not including his lessons in her daydreaming. When he lectured her on how the great capability of water came from its great versatility, or emphasized its relentless force in defying obstacles, she couldn't help but realize how much of what she admired about him must have came from these principles that he had learned and applied to himself.

 _Your instinct is to resist_ , he told her. _I understand; all your life has been a struggle, and without struggling you would not still be alive. But there is power to be found in yielding at the right time as well._

She had been distracted during the demonstration that followed, where much to her frustration, he turned her earnest attacks into a flowing dance with him as the master choreographer. Somehow, she had ended up cradled in both of his arms, and she had the feeling that he was greatly enjoyed being able to distract her.

 _Xing'er, listen well. Consider water, which is soft and yet strong, capable of wearing away rock or flowing around it._

In response, rather than drawing away from him as he clearly expected, she leaned into his embrace. Her cheek pressed against his chest and through all the layers of clothing, she heard his heartbeat. For a moment, Yuwen Yue seemed to forget what he had been saying, and instead drew a deep breath in. His voice sounded slightly stressed as he murmured something about persistence without resistance.

Strange that this was the memory that came so vividly to her now, when she was dying. Here they were again, together. Maybe they couldn't live together, but they could go together, she thought hazily. Yuwen Yue, as usual, was right. There was no value in resisting their fate. In a way, she was glad. The Icy Lake was not malicious or moral; it simply existed. Perhaps they would find a kind of peace.

With that thought, Chu Qiao finally let go of the last, lingering traces of her fear. Soothing warmth blossomed from deep inside of her, until she seemed to be floating in water that perfectly matched the temperature of her body. The sensation triggered a memory of another time, one of the few moments in her life where she had still trusted completely and loved deeply.

Her shoulder started to burn icy hot and suddenly she knew exactly why, the knowledge flooding back to her in a startling rush of clarity. She remembered her mother's hands on her back, transferring spiritual energy to her, each session forcing her body to become a stronger vessel, one that could hold more. The dark scarlet equinox flower appeared on her shoulder, the delicate lines becoming defined as if delicately tattooed on her shoulder by the power that was channeled into her. More than that, the flower appeared to be living, its many stems and petals growing and unfurling from a small bud.

Chu Qiao had never known if her mother had chosen the flower for its symbolism or if the power itself had mysteriously dictated the shape. The bulbs of the equinox flower made a potent poison, and they were often planted on graves as a tribute to the dead. The legends said that the flowers bloomed in Hell and served to guide the dead into the next reincarnation.

Now she could feel the flower appearing again on her back, larger than ever, as if bursting free. Ice was just another destructive form of water, she realized, and nothing could stop it. It could take away life…or just as easily preserve it. The power indeed was immense and limitless except for the limitations of her own mortal body to be a conduit for it—and yet, the human body was water, too.

Everyone had imagined it to be some kind of powerful object, or perhaps a sacred test, or even some secret kungfu method. The Wind and Cloud Decree was indeed all of that, in a way, but at the same time it was not. No wonder it had been so well hidden for all these years. No wonder Luo He had half killed her own daughter, all to prepare her to accept this _._

Because the Wind and Cloud Decree was neither object nor ancient myth. It was _her_. It was _in_ her, but it was also part of her, and she knew that it could never be stolen from her any more than her heart could be taken from her chest.

Instinctively, Chu Qiao reached out to Yuwen Yue, a giddy joy overcoming her as she understood at last what she could do. This was her true inheritance. She let the current of power guide her closer until she could wrap her arms around him. She wished that he could share the rush of victory that she felt.

The iced surface of the lake was a shining silver-blue above them, a cage that trapped them in the frigid depths of the water, where they would lose consciousness from lack of oxygen. Yuwen Yue was already unresponsive, but she no longer feared for him.

At this moment, in this icy lake, she could finally be the bright star to his cold moon.

* * *

* O * O * O *

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm going to be more disciplined about my writing so you won't be waiting so long for every little update. To that end, I already have half the next chapter done and I'm still working on it. **Please review**!


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